Complicated
by MiseryLovesCompany
Summary: Kid Blink likes Pistol, Pistol likes Kid Blink. So why is it so hard for them to deal with that? Two friends have to come to terms with not being just friends anymore, and Pistol has to accept the fact quick before another girl takes Blink.
1. Default Chapter

DISCLAIMER – I do not own the Newsies, or anything else by Disney for that matter. I do own Pistol, Misery, Bourbon, Riddle, Rags, Ladybug, Mockery, Shakes, Becca, and any other of my characters that appear.  
  
I also don't own Pokey, Jaws (Jocelyn) or Joaquin. They are owned by Pokey1 and Jocelyn Padoga.  
  
A/N – Geez a story that ISN'T about Spot or Racetrack. I don't know folks; this may be more than I can chew. We'll see.......*crosses fingers* -- A/N  
  
New York City – circa. 1890  
  
"Jacob if you don't get your butt back here, I'll..." the tiny skinny girl charged after the laughing seven year old boy, her legs pumping, pale, bruised shins flashing underneath the skirts of her faded, homespun dress.  
  
Jacob, a sturdy boy with burnished gold hair that always seemed to fall into his face and laughing blue eyes ran ahead of the girl carrying her doll in his hand. The girl, her copper braids streaming behind her grunted in determination and as he sidestepped a pickle vendor, she went in for the kill, hollering bloody murder and leaping onto his back.  
  
They fell into a heap of limbs and curses on the sidewalk until the girl neatly elbowed Jacob in the gut and rose, cradling her doll tenderly although it was a miserable looking toy to say the least. Clumps of yarn hair were missing, and its stitched mouth was half-unraveled. But the girl seemed to treasure it for she dreamily walked back down the way they had come, singing to it.  
  
Jacob Needham sat on the sidewalk in a daze looking after the sprite of a girl. It was widely known that her mother had been sent to an asylum after giving birth to a stillborn set of twins. The girl, Nora McGovern lived with her strictly religious elderly aunt and uncle in Manhattan. Jacob was a Bowery kid, his father one of the older members of the Bowery Boys, a notorious New York City street gang.  
  
Though not so much nearly as active as decades before, the Bowery Boys still ruled parts of the Bowery dressing highly different from their ancestors but still striving to maintain that certain dashing look to their murderous affairs. As a matter of fact, it was the Bowery they were playing in at the moment, Nora having run away from her governess for the third time that week at the sound of Jacob's whistle.  
  
The two children had grown up together before Nora's mother had been sent away, their mother's being best friends and father's before Nora's had died in a fire, 'business acquaintances'. Jacob leapt to his feet and dashed after the six year old girl, grabbing her arm as she nearly slipped away into the crowd.  
  
"You got rocks in your head? This is the Bowery you don't just walk off like that in the Bowery. Dumb girl, do I always hafta look out for you?" Nora sneered and stuck her tongue out at him.  
  
"No, you don't. But then your mam would get mad at you and you'd get a spankin'." Jacob tittered and walked alongside the girl for a moment or two before looking up at the sky.  
  
"Your governess is going to be mad at you by now." Nora shrugged and squeezed her natty doll to her.  
  
"That's okay Molly won't let her bother me." Jacob raised an eyebrow at the girl. 'Molly' was her name for her doll. The girl caught his look and aimed a kick at his backside.  
  
"Don't you look at me like that Jacob!" she screeched. He grinned and winked at her his eyes shining before dropping her off at the bench where her governess had first 'lost' her, in a park just outside the Bowery. He then slunk off to hide and keep an eye on the little girl till her tall, severely thin governess dressed in unrelieved black swooped down on her, berating her a mile a minute.  
  
Jacob saw Nora's lower lip quiver before she stomped her foot and started shaking her own finger back up at the woman which caused her to grab Nora's upper arm and shake her slightly before dragging her down the street. Jacob sighed and headed for home.  
  
Home was a small tenement building that the Bowery Boys had commandeered. Jacob trotted past a group of them who sprawled on the front steps drinking and smoking and quickly made his way through the dimly lit halls that smelled like urine and were littered with trash.  
  
His father lived in an apartment on the second floor, a small hole in the wall where they ate only what he brought home from some vendor at night, and slept on stained mattresses on the floor. Jacob wondered what it had been like when his Ma had been around, but he'd been so young when she was taken back East by her family. He also used to wonder why he hadn't been taken too, but he later was told by his father in a drunken haze that he had kept Jacob around so he could help him 'make money'.  
  
Making money involved pick-pocketing and little bouts of theft here and there. Usually he did this with other children of the Bowery Boys but he also ran around with another group of boys in Manhattan. They were just runaways or orphans, kids nobody wanted. Most of them sold papers for a living, as young as they were. He had visited the lodging house many a time and was always watched knowingly by the house manager, an aging man named Kloppman.  
  
Jacob strolled into the apartment building to be met by a cloud of smoke and a group of men huddled around their scarred, kitchen table. Jacob's father raised his head and peered through the badly lit room and waved the boy over. Jacob uneasily went to his father's side.  
  
"What'd you make today?" His father's breath reeked of alcohol and he bit the tip of his cigar and spat it away from him savagely. Jacob tentatively reached into the pocket of his short pants and pulled out a pocket watch, five dollars, and lady's bracelet. His father smiled, his stained teeth disgusting Jacob, but leaving him with a warm feeling inside when his father reached over and ruffled his hair.  
  
"Good boy! There's food on the counter over there, go eat you're scrawny as Hell." This was met with laughter by the rest of the men while Jacob ignored it and clambered up onto a stool to eat at the counter. His father had brought home a couple of hot dogs and a bottle of soda pop for him. He ate hungrily pausing only long enough to gulp down the sweet drink. When he was finally done he belched loudly, stringing it out and making sounds.  
  
"Sweet Jesus Kid," his father's friend Timothy said looking at him with admiring eyes. Most of the men and even the newsies called him 'Kid'. When he first met the newsies their leader, Flick had taken to calling him 'Kid' and his father and his friend's called him that because he was certain they had forgotten his name.  
  
"Kid, we're going to need you to be a watch out tonight." Jacob felt excitement course through him as he bounded back over to his father's side. His father, his once bright blonde hair now dull and thinning placed a hand on his son's back and explained the deal.  
  
They were going to loot a warehouse down by the River that had just taken a shipment in of expensive liquors. The territory was watched over by Rip Brannigan's gang but with Jacob and a few other children posing as sentries, they could be in and out of their in no time.  
  
Jacob knew better than to argue with his father, or disagree with any scheme that he came up with so he found himself at the stroke of midnight, sitting on a barrel next to Timothy's son a happy boy that was named Matthew but whom everyone called Mush because of his fondness for oatmeal and porridge.  
  
The two were close friends, and whenever he wasn't chasing Nora down the streets of the Bowery, he was usually found with Mush. They sat listening for any trouble, playing with a battered deck of cards Mush had brought along.  
  
The night was still, the only sounds coming from the water lapping at the dock's a distance away and the scuffling sounds of people walking on the streets. But nobody was down at the docks except for the Bowery Boys. Or so they thought.  
  
Shouts erupted in the night, and Jacob and Mush looked at each other in wide-eyed shock. Mush's brown eyes were scared, and he jammed his cabby hat onto his head before jerking a chin at Jacob.  
  
"Let's get out of here that came over by Nat's post. We should go see if him and Sean are alright." Jacob nodded, feeling a sense of foreboding come over his young mind. Something bad was going to happen if they went over there, he could feel it. But if he didn't, then his father would throw a fit and a few fists at him as well.  
  
Together the two small boys made their way down to the warehouse, creeping along in the shadows. Whistles blew shrilly, and Jacob grabbed Mush's shoulder as a pack of police officers stampeded by. Ducking down into a space hidden by a few barrels and crates, the two boys waited. Soon enough, a group of Bowery Boys were herded past them towards a paddy wagon that had pulled up. Jacob and Mush watched as their father's, Nat, Sean and other Bowery Boys were loaded inside.  
  
When the paddy wagon pulled away with a screech of its tires, Jacob leaned against a barrel and let out a shaky breath. Mush did so as well, taking off his hat to wipe a hand through his brown curls.  
  
"That was so close," he hissed, raising his upper body slightly to peer over a barrel. Jacob nodded but was suddenly yanked up by a large fist that grasped the front of his shirt and held him mid-air effortlessly.  
  
"Well, well, what do we have here? Some of the Bowery Brats I gather? Looks like these nits got left behind." A group of men as nasty looking as the Bowery Boys had gathered in the lane, their arms crossed as they looked over the boys. Jacob gulped furiously, his legs kicking in the air. One of his feet connected with the man's privates and he dropped Jacob howling in pain.  
  
"Teach that little shit a lesson!" he cried out as he writhed in agony on the ground. Mush was forgotten as the men set about methodically beating a seven year old boy. The last thing Jacob remembered was the crack of a belt and the burning pain as it sliced across his face.  
  
When Jacob awoke, he lay in a white bed, in a white room, surrounded by the color white. In fact the only thing that wasn't white was Mush, curled up in a chair by the bed. Raising a hand to his face, he whimpered in confusion at the white gauzy bandage that was wrapped around his head and one of his eyes. Mush jerked awake and looked at Jacob, yawning.  
  
"Wh...Where am I?" Jacob stuttered, feeling a stabbing pain go through his head.  
  
"And what happened to my head?" Mush chuckled at the first statement, but grew sober with the last. Rising, he trudged over to Jacob's side and put a hand on his friend's small shoulder.  
  
"You're in a hospital, Kid. And as for the last part, well...Brannigan's boys, they sort of whipped ya real good. One of 'em hit your eye with his belt and the doc had to remove it." Mush had none of the subtleness of an adult, which Jacob was glad for, but he felt tears coming out of his good eye as he sobbed into the pillow.  
  
"I only have one eye?" Mush nodded then thought for a moment.  
"Hey it won't be so bad, you get to wear this!" He produced a brown leather patch with strings hanging down from his dusky colored hand. Jacob gave him a look and Mush curbed some of his enthusiasm. Really, the boy couldn't help it he was born that way.  
  
Jacob rolled over so that his back was to Mush. He was now one of those children that survived only by the pity of strangers. A beggar. He had been reduced to their ranks. He didn't care when Mush gave up trying to comfort him and left. He felt nothing but disbelief and sadness. Crying himself to sleep, he didn't even care if he woke up. 


	2. Chapter Two

A/N – I'm so glad to see some of my old readers reading this story. Welcome guys! *waves* Oh yeah, I'm curious. How do you make your writing bold or italic on FFnet? I tried to bold it but it never works. Is there something special you have to do? –A/N  
  
Shout Outs!  
  
Brooklyn Myst – Yay I hope you do stick with this till the end. I don't know if it will be as long as my next one, but here's hoping it's as good. Don't worry, Kid's tough.  
  
Kid Blink: *flexes*  
  
See? ;D  
  
My dog ate my penname – How rude of Spot to say that...*slaps Spot upside the head*  
  
Spot: Ooo. I like it when you're all tough. *winks*  
  
*rolls eyes* I just don't know anymore...  
  
Spot: I still love ya too Spitball...*holds out a handful of wilted flowers*  
  
Awwwwwwwwwwww....I got your profile and yes you can be in both if you so desire!  
  
Thank you so much girlie, I'm glad you like my stories.  
  
Just Duck -- *bows back* Oh my goodness!! *waves hands frantically in front of face to stop the tears*  
  
I'd just like to thank Kid Blink, the newsies, all the horrible things that have happened to them in my imagination, the people who made newsies, the hotness of the newsies...  
  
Spot: Oh boy, here we go. *crosses arms and listens to Misery babble*  
  
And last but not least, my mentor, Spot Conlon.  
  
Spot: What?! I have something in my eye....*pretends not to cry*  
  
Hehehe....I love doing that. By the way, we can post our story under your name or my name it's no biggie to me.  
  
Jamie Bell – Thank you dear! Hah, I thought that line was a very 'Mush' thing to say. Anybody who is that happy waking up is just insane. (From the movie). I don't know how I do it either, but as long as people like it that's good enough for me.  
  
Nada Zimri – No, no keep acting spastic. I love spastic people. Yep everyone voted for this story first so I figured, what the hay? Actually, yes I did have Gangs of New York on the brain, hah.  
  
BrkLnLady – Thank you I'm glad you liked it! Nice to see your name again.  
  
When Jacob woke up the next morning, he was glad to see that Mush wasn't there. As much as he liked Mush, he just wanted to be alone. The searing pain in his eye bothered him, and he let himself cry for a while, soaking the side of his face and pillow with hot tears. A nurse came in, dressed in white, young and still passionate about her job. She rubbed his back and gave him some medicine that made him feel like he was floating. He slept more, and the next time he woke up he wasn't alone.  
  
A nun and a priest sat by his bedside. Jacob shook his shaggy hair out of his dirty face and looked at them in confusion. The nun wore the black and white habit of her profession and had steely gray eyes but a face with laugh lines at the corners of her eyes.  
  
The priest was overweight and wore a plain black suit. He had spectacles that he kept pushing up the bridge of his large nose and he looked rather bored, and impatient. Jacob pushed himself up into a sitting position and waited. He didn't feel good; his stomach was lurching too and fro. He was rather afraid that he was going to throw up on his visitors. Then he would go to Hell for sure.  
  
"Are ye Jacob Needham?" The Irish burr in the woman's voice comforted Jacob. He nodded and she smiled gently at him, the act softening her face completely.  
  
"I'm Sister Mary Catherine of Saint George's. This is Father Declan. We've been notified of your father's arrest and that you have no other family here in the City." Jacob knew where this was going. No father, meant orphan. Orphan meant one of the crowded, lifeless orphanages.  
  
"When you're healed, the city has given custody of you over to us at Saint George's. One of our staff will be by to collect you when you're ready to come stay with us." Jacob frowned and crossed his arms over his skinny chest.  
  
"Don't wanna," he said lower lip jutting out, brows furrowed. Sister Mary Catherine laughed a rippling, light sound that reminded him of music. He looked at her curiously.  
  
"Dear boy, I know you don't want to come, but the fact remains that you're far too young to take care of yourself." Jacob shrugged.  
  
"Been doin' it myself so far," he said matter-of-factly. The nun looked startled and she blinked once or twice before rising, the priest swiftly following her example.  
  
"Well you'll like it at St. George's. Until you're well, lad." And with that, the pair disappeared. Jacob cursed under his breath and plucked at the woolen blanket despondently. He had to find a way to get out of the hospital before they came back for him.  
  
Mush came back a few days later, bringing with him some candy and a crudely drawn card from Nora. Jacob was surprised, he didn't think Mush knew about her, but apparently he did.  
  
"She would have come to see ya but her aunt and uncle don't let her out for walks so much anymore." Jacob felt a wave of loneliness hit him. He suddenly missed her a lot and wanted nothing more than to have her chase him and tease him. When Mush stopped rattling on about nothing, Jacob explained to him about the visit from the nun and priest. Mush whistled, shaking his head.  
  
"I'm lucky; one of my dad's girls took me in. She says I can't stay for that long, but I'm thinkin' about joinin' the newsies on Duane Street, you know Flick's group." Jacob nodded that he knew who Mush was talking about and he suddenly knew what he could do.  
  
"Mush we have to get me out of here so I can go with you. If I'm a newsie, I don't have to live in an orphanage. I can live at the lodging house." Mush looked doubtful.  
  
"How do you expect me to get you out of here?" Jacob thought hard and shrugged. Mush suddenly brightened up and Jacob could have sworn a light bulb appeared over his head.  
  
"I know, we can just walk out!" Jacob snorted and shook his head.  
  
"No really, this place is so full and so busy that nobody will pay attention."  
  
And wouldn't you know that hare-brained idea of Mush's actually worked?  
  
As they rounded the corner, a few blocks away from the hospital, Mush burst out laughing, slapping his knee and holding his sides.  
  
"Told ya!" he crowed triumphantly. Jacob rolled his eye and shook his head again. He had been in the hospital long enough that his wound had scabbed over so he had taken to wearing the eye patch. He knew he still had to take care of his eye or else it would be bad and he'd have to go back to the hospital. One of the nurses had sat and drilled it into his head that he needed to keep where his eye had been very, very, clean.  
  
Feeling happier for the first time in a week, Jacob and Mush strolled down the sidewalk until they came to Duane Street. It was lunch time, a fact which had escaped neither of the boys' attention since their stomachs were rumbling loudly. Mush rubbed his and giggled at a particularly loud growl.  
  
"We can go to Alice's and eat later. She's home during the day she don't work till night." Jacob nodded sagely. Alice was one of the women who walked around at night wearing hardly anything. He didn't know what else she did, but she must have the easiest job in the world.  
  
They passed by two little boys sword-fighting with old, sawed off broomsticks. One of them raised a hand in greeting and the two boys stopped. The boy bounced over, his shiny black hair framing his tanned face and his smile bright.  
  
"Hey Bumlets!" Mush grinned back at the boy who leaned on his broomstick. The other boy who was around their age, eight or seven joined them. He had brown hair and a disgruntled look on his face. Bumlets jerked his finger at him and half-smiled in apology.  
  
"Don't worry about Skitts, he's always like this. Don't know what happened to him." The other boy frowned even more and gave Bumlets a baleful stare.  
  
"It's Skittery, and yer mudda, Bumlets." Bumlets just laughed and looked at the other pair curiously.  
  
"Whaddya doin' down here? Thought you fellas usually stayed in the Bowery." Jacob nodded and raised his hands.  
  
"That's the thing, we was wonderin' if Flick is around. We both need a place to stay, and we want to be newsies." Bumlets' face brightened and he nodded. Even Skittery looked slightly happier. New newsies meant more friends, and more people to watch your back on the streets. They led Mush and Jacob to a small restaurant with the name 'Tibby's' painted in gold and white on the front window.  
  
When they walked into the restaurant, Skittery and Bumlets herded the boys towards a booth in the back. Jacob could see the familiar faces of Flick and the other older newsboys sitting around, eating and laughing. Flick was a hard-faced fellow, with red hair and blue, blue eyes. He swallowed a piece of his hot dog and looked down when Bumlets tugged on his gray colored sleeve.  
  
"D'you want, Runt?" He took some of the sting out of his greeting with a smile and by ruffling Bumlets' hair. Bumlets pointed at Jacob and Mush with a dirty finger. Flick widened his smile to include them, not being unfamiliar with the pair.  
  
Popping the last bite of hot dog into his mouth, he noticed the two were almost drooling all over themselves at the food. The other newsies laughed and picking up the two boys, made room for them in the booth, giving them what little they had left to eat. Bumlets and Skittery had disappeared, going back to whatever game it was they had been playing.  
  
Flick lit a cigarette and leaned back in the booth looking at Mush and Jacob with an appraising eye. He could tell something was wrong with Jacob, and he was frankly disturbed to see the eye patch on the little boy. Something awful had happened to him, but he didn't want to pry. Jacob looked up and saw the leader's watchful eyes and sighed.  
  
"Got jumped by Brannigan's boys, I lost me eye." Flick exhaled slowly, letting a low whistle. Jacob scrunched down in the seat across from him, trying to become one with the wooden bench. The other older boys were silent as well until one of them, a pudgy boy named Chowder put a hand on Jacob's shoulder and patted it silently.  
  
Flick, so named because he was always smoking and therefore flicking ash away from him, did so and lifted his chin slightly, his hard eyes softening a tad. He had always liked Jacob's spirit, and it bothered him to see him so down.  
  
"What can I do for ya then Kid?" Jacob shrugged slightly, but Mush had no such set-backs. Propping himself up on the table, stuffing the remains of a sandwich into his mouth, he piped up in his boyish voice.  
  
"We wanna be newsies, Flick!" Flick grinned, showing a space where one of his front teeth had been knocked out in a fight and blew a smoke ring.  
  
"Is that right Mushy?" Mush nodded enthusiastically and the boys laughed. It wasn't mocking, or mean, just...laughter. Jacob waited with bated breath for Flick's verdict. If the lodging house was full, they would have to go elsewhere, and he wasn't about to try to join up with Sneak's boys over in Brooklyn. That boy had a few screws loose and was dangerous to boot.  
  
"Just so happens we have a few bunks empty. If you would do us the honor," here he made his accent falsely British and tried to look haughty; "we would love to have your company."  
  
Jacob finally smiled for the first time it seemed in a week. He let out a relieved breath and Chowder slapped his shoulder, a grin splitting his wide face. And so it was that Jacob, re-named Kid Blink for the lack of his eye, and Mush joined the Manhattan Newsboys.  
  
Kid Blink's first night in the lodging house was sleepless. He wasn't used to sleeping in a room full of so many boys. Their night noises were almost as loud as they were awake. Snoring, coughing, and talking in their sleep, even farting. Kid Blink had to stop himself from busting out laughing when a sleeping Chowder passed gas near him.  
  
The next morning, an affectionately gruff Kloppman woke up all the boys with cuffs and hollers. Blink woke without any difficulty, he hadn't slept anyway. Trudging to the Distribution Center with the rest of the boys, he met a tiny boy who wore a black cowboy hat and had unruly brown hair named Jack Kelly, whom everyone called Cowboy. He also met a cripple which made him feel better about his situation named Crutchy.  
  
"And then my parents said they'd come get me when they found a home out in Santa Fe," Jack was saying, his ridiculously large hat flopping into his eyes. Crutchy gave him a sad smile and nodded.  
  
"Sure Jack, sure." Blink began to understand that Jack wasn't telling the truth, but that everyone else humored his dreams. An eight year old boy wearing a cabby hat darted through the crowd and skidded to a stop near Jack, panting. Blink hadn't seen him at the lodging house, but he was apparently known, for Jack slung an arm around the obviously Italian boy's shoulders.  
  
"Heya Racetrack, how's it shakin'?" Racetrack shrugged and gave an impish grin, showing off crooked teeth.  
  
"Could be worse, could be worse. My fadda tried to strap me for stealin' his change but I got away." Jacob couldn't help but laugh at the kid's spunk. Jack introduced them and Racetrack spat into his hand and offered it to Blink, who shook it. Race then shook Mush's hand and continued prattling on until an older boy named Torch told him to shut up.  
  
Not one to be shut up so easily, Racetrack told him off in fluent Italian. Torch seemed to be waiting for it though, for he lunged at the smaller boy. Racetrack taunted him and darted away. Blink joined the rest of the young boys when they began to shout encouragement to Race.  
  
Kid Blink felt amazingly comfortable with these boys. It was almost like this was where he was supposed to be all along. Grinning at Mush, he didn't even mind when he reached the lodging house later that afternoon, feet sore and pocket's meagerly filled with change.  
  
As he sat on the front stoop with some of the boys he had met that day, Jack, Racetrack, Crutchy, two other boys named Specs and Dutchy, both blonde haired although Specs wore glasses, and Mush were all laughing and telling jokes. He heard an amazed sound and was almost thrown off of the steps when a small whirlwind launched itself at him.  
  
"Where have you beeeeeen?!" He immediately recognized the voice and felt his heart lift. Finally, it was Nora. He'd unconsciously been keeping an eye out for her the whole day. He wondered how she had gotten away from her governess. The other boys dropped silent as he extricated himself from her arms and held her away from him.  
  
She covered her mouth with a tiny hand at the sight of his eye, and he felt the smile leave his face instantly. She was going to find him gross and not want to be around him anymore, he just knew it. She hesitantly reached out a grubby hand and touched the side of his face near his lost eye.  
  
"Poor Jacob, what happened?" Kid ripped his head away and shrugged his shoulders sullenly. Nora stood up, her arms akimbo and glared at him before hauling off and kicking him on the shins. Sucking in his breath in pain, he shot to his feet, furious.  
  
"What's the big idea?" he screamed. Nora tilted her head back and gave him a victorious grin.  
  
"You're a jerk that's the big idea." Racetrack snickered and Kid Blink saw grins on the faces of all the other boys. Flopping back down onto the stairs, he gave her a disinterested look  
  
"Whatever, you're just a dumb girl." Nora snorted in laughter and kicked at him again, which he dodged before turning to leave. Looking over her shoulder at him, she stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes.  
  
"You idiot, you don't know nothin'. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
"No you won't," Kid Blink shot back determined not to let her get the best of him in front of the guys. She just walked away and laughed and somehow he knew that he WOULD see her tomorrow. She would make good on her threat, or promise, which he wasn't sure of quite yet. The guys fell over laughing at him when she was gone from sight.  
  
"Blink has a giiiirl---friiiiiiend," Racetrack chanted in a sing-song voice. Kid Blink punched his shoulder and the Italian rubbed his arm and made an obscene gesture at him which made Blink laugh.  
  
"Shaddup, do not." The other boys continued to taunt him until darkness began to fall. Then Flick was outside, telling them to get their asses into the house before Kloppman locked them out.  
  
Tomorrow was another day of walking, selling, maybe going hungry. Yet Kid Blink couldn't wait. He was one of the first into bed; eyes squeezed shut as if that would bring sleep quicker. He heard quiet laughter from Flick as he made his way to his own bunk later that night before he finally drifted off into a deep sleep. 


	3. Chapter Three

            **A/N** -- *mutters* Save as a Web document and the Italics and Bold should work…*makes a face* Not for me I bet! *snickers* -- **A/N**

**PS- **Honestly tell me if this chapter sucks because I feel like it does.

            "Get up!" The scream that rang in Kid's ear was shrill enough to wake the dead. He jerked up and fell off of his bunk. Mush, on the bottom bunk giggled insanely. Blink was ready to swing at the person irritating him when he saw that it was Nora, her red hair stuffed up underneath a cabby hat and her clothing dirty and ripped and well…not girlie. 

            His one good eye shot open when he saw her wearing boy's clothes and he muttered something about 'girls not being smart' before falling back down onto his pillow. A sharp pain in his side made him yell out and open his one good eye, squinting it at Nora in a glare.

            "Whaddya doin' in here, Nora?" She frantically made a 'shushing' motion with one hand and stole a glance at the bunk where Flick was rousing himself out of a sound sleep. Kloppman had already done his rounds and would be back for a second one any minute now. 

            "Call me Pistol," she hissed at him as Flick rolled over and opened his eyes in an accusatory manner at the two.

            "Who the fuck are you?" he rasped out, pointing a dirty finger in her direction. Blink saw Nora pale and then just as quickly she leapt off of Blink's bed and darted towards Flick, holding out a tiny white hand.

            "Pistol McGovern's the name, how's it shakin'?" Flick looked slightly taken aback at what he thought to be a tiny boy pumping his hand up and down, and obviously at home with getting up rather early in the morning. Nodding in a befuddled state, he slid off of his bunk and stumbled towards the washroom, telling a pair of singing newsies to 'shut their traps'. 

            Blink let out a sigh of relief and shook his head at Nora. She blithely smiled at him and shifted from foot to foot impatiently as he threw on a shirt and trousers. Stopping long enough to grab his boots and socks, he threw on a vest and his cabby hat and followed Nora down the stairs blearily. 

            Thanking the nuns outside who stood about with a cart to hand out breakfast to the homeless children, Blink gnawed on his roll and slurped a tin cup of water before handing it back to the nuns with heartfelt thanks. One of the nuns gave him a long; sad look her brown eyes large and tender. He always forgot that he was really young, a fact that brought pause to many people who saw him hawking newspapers all day long.

            Nora stopped when he sat down to pull on his socks and boots. Flopping down onto the stoop beside him, she let out a sigh and stretched her arms high over her head. It was the first sign she gave that made him aware that she WASN'T used to waking up so early. Handing over a chunk of the roll, she gave him a wide grin. 

            "So what the HELL are you doing?" Nora shrugged and nudged him

            "I'm spending the day with you, just like I promised." Blink shook his head in exasperation and gave her a look that one would give a bumbling puppy. He had thought she had forgotten about her promise since it had been a month or two, but she had apparently just been biding her time until HE had forgotten. 

            "Nora, ya can't hang out with me today. Ya just can't, girls don't do that." Nora's eyes narrowed into two fiery green slits. Blink swallowed jerkily, realizing he had made a mistake. Raising a tiny fist she shook it in his face.

            "I AM hanging out with you today, and I'm Pistol now, not Nora." 

            "Pistol?" The little girl nodded, a satisfied smirk reaching her narrow face.

            "Yep, because I can shoot my mouth off like a pistol." Blink looked at her.

            "Who told you that?"

            "My Uncle Nathan." Blink nodded and hid a smile with a dirty hand. Nora looked at him suspiciously before baring her teeth at him.

            "Why is that funny?" Blink instantly sobered.

            "No reason, it's just because it's your UNCLE and well he's no quiet guy either." Nora looked pleased at that statement and they sat in silence, both chewing on the crusty rolls before Blink stood up at the sound of boys voices. 

            "Are you sure about this N—Pistol?" When "Pistol" nodded, he sighed and waited for the rest of his gang to meet up with them. Jack, Racetrack, Crutchy, Mush, Bumlets, Skittery and a few other boys came strolling along, talking excitedly or dragging their feet sleepily as was the case with Skittery. They all paused and look on in interest at this new 'boy'. 

            "Fellas this is Pistol, Pistol this is…" Blink went on to name all the boys who nodded, smiled, shook hands, or looked on with their heads askance, eyes challenging. Mush winked secretly at Pistol. Bumlets smacked Skittery upside the head when he openly sneered at Pistol.

            "That's no way to treat the new boys, Skittery we won't GET anymore new boys if you keep it up." Skittery mumbled a 'so' before taking off ahead on his own. Blink and Pistol joined the rest of the crowd as they walked to the Distribution Center where the older boys were already in position in line. Weisel was there handing out papers, his two sullen nephews Oscar and Morris helping out. Both little boys had disgruntled looks on their swarthy faces and they growled in reply to any witty offerings the newsies had for them. 

            Blink made it so that he was directly in front of Nora and Mush was right behind her. He had seen Mush wink at Nora when they had joined up with the rest of the boys so he knew that Mush recognized her. When Blink bought his papers off of Weisel he waited for Pistol to do the same. She searched through her pockets before coming up with only a dime. Putting it down on the counter she held her chin up in the air when Weisel scoffed at her.

            "A dime?" he shifted the stub of a cigar he had clamped between yellowed teeth and looked down at her. A leer crossed his fat face before he nodded at Oscar who laughing slammed a handful of papers down onto the counter in front of Pistol.

            "Tell you what, street rat you sell all twenty of those papes you only have to pay me for half of the extra ten, deal?" Pistol opened her mouth to say something smart to him, but Mush jostled her from behind, muttering something about wanting his own papers while shooting Pistol a warning look. A scarred hand suddenly dropped another dime onto the counter. Pistol followed the dimes decent to see Flick standing at her side, his face angry as he glared at Weisel.

            "Nobody needs your charity, Weasel. Get bent. C'mon kid take the papers and get moving we have work to do." Pistol shot Flick such a look of hero worship that it almost made Blink jealous before she bounced over to his side, jabbering at him.

            "Didja see that, didja? Huh?" Blink swatted at her and she scowled at him, before sticking her tongue out at him which caused Mush to laugh as he joined them. Blink slung an arm around Pistol's shoulders and led her down the street.

            "That was our fearless leader Flick. Hopefully he doesn't figure out you're a broad, I don't think he'd like it too much." Pistol made a face, but her cheeks paled slightly and Blink felt bad. He knew it was tough to be a kid on the streets, tougher if you were a girl. You were either made fun of, or treated like one of the boys. He imagined it was rough to be treated like one of the boys if you were a girl, but all the little girls he had known had grown used to it, Nora…_Pistol_ he corrected himself mentally being one of them. 

            They spent the rest of the day hawking headlines, searching for food, dodging the cops who would have hauled them off to an orphanage, and nursing sore feet. Blink spent the latter part of the day holding Pistol up who had never actually _walked_ all day. Sure she played and ran away from her governess, but she had never had to stand on her feet all day to earn a living. Both Blink and Mush admired her strength for she continually pushed Blink away when he tried to help her. In the end, she conceded and let him gather her up onto his back for a piggy-back ride which killed his own aching feet, but he didn't complain. 

            By the time they made it back to the lodging house, most of the boys were already there, some drinking flasks of hooch and playing cards while the others lounged on their bunks. Blink grabbed Pistol's hand and they warily made their way out a nearby window onto the fire escape where they flopped down, legs hanging over the edge, heads leaning against the cool metal.

            "When are you going home?" Pistol looked over at Blink, a serious expression on her elfin face.

            "Never," she said softly. Blink's eyes shifted from the sky that had erupted into glorious hues of oranges, reds, pinks, and yellows to Pistol's blue eyes. The sky's colors were mirrored in their depths and he swallowed at the tears that suddenly leaked from the corners of her eyes.

            "What's the matter?" She shook her head and angrily dashed away the wetness with a dirty hand. He put a small hand on her shoulder and she jerked away before softening slightly.

            "I overheard Aunt Catherine saying that I need 'discipline'," here she stumbled over the large word, but continued on, "and Uncle Nathan agreed so they said I was going away to a special school, upstate." Blink's heart constricted. Nora bit her lower lip and gave him a determined look.

            "I'm going, Blink. I can't leave here, and I don't wanna leave you, you're my only friend." 

            "I don't know if Flick will let ya stay I mean, he doesn't know that you're a…"

            "A girl?" Both children leapt at the rough voice that butted into their conversation. Two pairs of fearful eyes looked up at the tough demeanor of Flick who lit a cigarette and looked at them with humor shining in his eyes. 

            "You're too cute to be a boy and your hair gives it away." When Pistol looked at him in confusion, he tugged at a lock of her long hair that had escaped from underneath her cap. When it pulled down all the way past her shoulder she couldn't help but giggle in helplessness. 

            "I should just kick you out, I don't hold with letting girls stay here, but the times are changing and God only knows what the next leader will let live under this roof. I figure, you proved yourself today Pistol, and that shows me that you can stay. But I don't want none of your girlie friends joining ranks just because I let you."

            "I don't have any girlie friends," Pistol said quietly. Flick just nodded and turned around to announce to the rest of the boys that they had a new kid staying with them and her name was Pistol. The shouts that rang out after that bomb were loud and Pistol laughed into her hand when most of the small boys she had played with all day stuck their heads outside.

            "You're a girl?" Jack looked at her incredulously while Race blinked at her and even Skittery looked taken aback. Inside there was a heated debate about whether or not girls should be allowed in the lodging house, but Flick had spoken as was made clear by him leaping up onto his bunk and turning his back to the rest of the boys. As that was the signal to go to bed, the rest of the kids quietly made their way to their bunks and turned in for the night.

            Pistol, now sleeping in a corner piled high with coats and a few blankets was the happiest she'd ever been in her short life. She didn't mind the dirty, hard floor at all if it meant that she wasn't with her aunt and uncle and she was with her bestest friend in the whole world, Jacob. 

A few days later found Pistol, Blink, and Mush now almost inseparable sitting on a pier down by the river. Pistol was throwing pieces of her hot dog bun to the gulls, laughing as they fought over the bread and earning dour looks from both boys.

            "What's your problem?" 

            "Aren't you going to EAT that?" Pistol looked down at the crust in her hand and shook her head. Mush leapt for it, fending off an equally hungry Blink as he wolfed it down. 

            "Damnit!" Blink hollered loudly. A sudden 'tsk tsk' noise caused all three of them to whip their heads up. Three boys sat perched on crates their arms crossed, tough looks causing their small faces to twist into something unpleasant.

            "D'you know where you are?" Pistol looked around at the water and the docks.

            "New York City?" The head boy, a tiny thing who wore his cabby hat cocked to one side shot her an icy look that could have frozen water.  Leaping down he swaggered into their midst, his clothing just as ragged as theirs, except for a pair of scarlet suspenders that kept his black trousers up. He had a slingshot sticking out of his back pocket, and ash blonde hair stuck out from underneath his cap. He was only a little taller than Pistol, but his attitude and lack of fear made up for his size. 

            "You're in Brooklyn, idiots. Who do you run with?" Pistol shrunk slightly behind Blink and Mush. She wasn't stupid, she knew when to pick her battles and this clearly wasn't a winning one for her at all. The boy didn't bat an eye at Mush, who was already a formidable size for an eight year old, nor the lack of Blink's eye something that gave even hardened boys pause.

            "Flick of Manhattan." The boy cocked his head again and nodded, throwing a glance to his companions who took it as a dismissal. All three Manhattan kids were transfixed at this strange boy's behavior. He was older than them but by no more than a year or so, Pistol guessed.

            "I'm Spot Conlon," he said spitting into his hand and holding it out to them. He didn't bother shaking with Pistol, he wrote her off with no more than a glance at her long red hair that she wore hanging loose underneath her own cap. She crossed her eyes at him and he smirked at her while she blushed and ducked her head.

            "You're one Sneak's boys then. I've heard about you." Spot grinned at Mush, obviously pleased. They talked for a few more moments before Spot told them to tell Jack that he said 'hey' and to ask when Racetrack was coming for a game of marbles. As they walked off, Mush shook his head.

            "Anybody who wonders who the next Brooklyn leader is gonna be is a jerk. Everyone knows it's going to be Spot Conlon." Pistol cast a glance back at the narrow shouldered, thin boy as he leapt up onto the pile of crates and then jumped down onto the other side, disappearing from view. She didn't doubt Mush's words for one moment. 

**Shout Outs!**

**Pokey7 – **Yeah it is sad, but you're right like I said to someone else Blink is tough like I'd imagine most of those little boys would have had to be. Hehe..Yeah I want Blink and Nora to remind people of what it was like to be in kindergarten and like someone and just TORMENT them because you liked them. That's what their relationship is based on. 

**Just Duck – **Nah Pistol isn't a wimp either, so she's not the type to be overly grossed out by something like that. Hehe..Hero worship is fun.

**Nada Zimri – **I'm glad you like my characters, I was afraid that I was too wrapped up in my last story to be able to write another one about newsies and make it different.  Here's hopin'!. Of course you can be spastic m'dear that's what I like about ya :D . 

**JamieBell – **I'm glad you like this story so far, I'm afraid it's turning boring. I'll have to go over the plot again to refresh my memory. Here's hopin' that I can make the bold and italics work. *crosses fingers*

**My dog ate my penname – **Yeppers you get to be in both, just not for a little while. I think I'll add you in soon, but it might not be for another chapter or two. Unless…I get another idea…*jots it down* ;D

Oh don't encourage Spot, he REALLY doesn't need it.

Spot: Like hell I don't! *winks at Spitball*

I hope this story is as good as 'Under My Thumb'. I shouldn't doubt it so early on, that's it. 


	4. Chapter Four

**DISCLAIMER: ****I don't own Spitball, she is owned by My Dog Ate My Penname. Nor do I own the Newsies or any characters from that movie. I do own Pistol, Bourbon, Nell, Flick, Chowder etc. **

            "Got a smoke?" 

            "Sure, here."

            "Thanks." Pistol eyed Blink with a sideways glance. It had been five years since they had joined up with Flick and his Manhattan boys. Now, at ages twelve and eleven, they were still close friends, yet not as close as before. Both children were reaching the age where they noticed the opposite sexes as being frustrating yet enthralling.

            Blink spent most of his time with the other boys his age, while Pistol toughed out the streets with a few new additions to the group, a couple of girls as smart-mouthed and tough as she was. The boys didn't like that there were more girls in their group, but they tolerated it because Flick tolerated it. In truth, they hardly even viewed the girls as being girls because they all dressed like the boys and acted like them as well. 

            It was pure necessity that drove the little girls to do this. They either came from rough homes, or didn't have one and being that age in this city was anything but fun. Pistol flipped a lock of her copper hair over her shoulder and shifted her shoulders irritably. The new shirt she had 'acquired' itched something awful and she was in a bad mood. A loud thud and an 'oomph' made her shoot her eyes down towards her feet.

             A tall girl with tanned skin lay sprawled at Pistol's feet. Pistol cracked a grin and stuck out a grubby hand as Blink snorted with laughter. Shooting Blink a nasty look, the girl turned grateful brown eyes up at Pistol and let her haul her into a sitting position. When the girl stood up, she was much taller than Pistol although they were both around the same age. Pistol believed that she was two years older than the girl but nobody counted much.

            "Hey Spitball, how's it shakin'?" 

            "Like this!" Spitball did a few dance steps shaking her behind which caused Blink to turn bright red and Pistol to throw back her head and burst into laughter. Spitball was like that, she always cracked jokes and either made you laugh or said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Nobody ever seemed to mind though, that was just the way she was. 

            Fixing her long curly black hair by tying it back with a piece of twine, Spitball gave them a bright grin before bounding away, causing Pistol to wince. The girl was constantly tripping over her feet and falling headlong into both trouble and the sidewalk. 

            Blink shook his head as he watched Spitball run to catch up with Skittery who was exiting the lodging house. Apparently the two knew each other from a few years ago when Spitball had first came to America and lived in Manhattan. Pistol giggled when she saw Spitball slap Skittery upside the back of his head and charge away laughing hysterically as the normally sullen boy turned red and took off down the street after her.

            "She really shouldn't do that to him," Pistol gave Blink an incredulous look at the displeasure in his voice. Taking a long haul off of her smoke she sneered at a woman who gave her a disgusted look and grinned, cigarette smoke trailing out of her nose and mouth as the woman sniffed haughtily and swept past. 

            "It's all in good fun, Blink she doesn't mean any harm." Blink shook his head, his shaggy mop of blonde hair falling over his eye patch. Pistol resolved to make him let her cut it later. She wasn't good at it, but she tried to help the boys keep some semblance of cleanliness. It helped them sell more papers. 

            "Good fun, right." Pistol heaved a large sigh and hearing the bells ring at the Distribution Center signaling a new work day, she mischievously smirked at Blink before goosing him. Blink let out a startled gasp and flew a foot into the air, as Pistol cackled manically and raced off, Kid Blink in hot pursuit.

            She reached the D.C. out of breath and panting, falling into a heap against the wall next to the three other girls that completed their motley crew. Bourbon, a tall girl of about twelve or thirteen gave Pistol a lopsided grin before glowering at Racetrack who was trying to cut off one of her braids with a pocket knife.

            "Race!"

            "What?!" A resounding slap was heard and most of the boys started to point and laugh as Racetrack slunk to where Jack, Mush, and a few other little boys were standing. Bourbon turned back to Pistol and smirked. She had golden brown hair and these odd whiskey colored eyes. Her skin was dusky like Mush's but more olive complexioned then his. Pistol rolled her own blue eyes at Race's back and inclined her chin at Bourbon.

            "Nice one, he'll have a mark on his face for at least an hour."

            "Hopefully two," Spitball said with a giggle. The last girl was also tall, and twelve as well. Her long blonde hair was curly and held back with a ribbon. She was the only one out of the girls who wore dresses and skirts. She also had started to develop early and most of the boys liked to leer over her. 

            "Ya know Nell, they'd treat you better if you didn't wear such tight blouses," Bourbon said spitting with distaste. Nell rolled her eyes and ignored Bourbon. Even though Pistol had joined ranks first, Bourbon had become the unofficial second leader in the Manhattan lodging house, over the girls. 

            "Sad thing is she don't mind," Pistol said with disgust before lighting another cigarette. Most of the kids smoked, they had started at a young age and didn't even register the looks adults gave them. To be a street kid made one old before their time. A shrill whistle pierced the air and the kids moved forward to purchase their papers.

            Pistol teamed up with Bourbon while Spitball ran off to find Skittery. They had apparently grown up together and while Spitball loved to antagonize the boy, he didn't seem to mind. Bumlets and Skittery had taken to letting Spitball tag along with them while they sold. Nell walked off with an older boy who was heavily taken with her, even at her young age. 

            Bourbon and Pistol walked by Blink and Mush who always sold together and Blink shot her a look. She paused and raised her eyebrows enquiringly.

            "Not selling with us today?" Pistol snorted.

            "Since when do you want me to? You never want me around anymore." Mush had a look on his face that was humorous. He could tell when their arguments were going to escalate. Just then Flick walked by and he tugged on Pistol's copper braid that hung out from underneath her cabby hat.

            "You botherin' the boy's cutie?" Pistol felt her face turning red. She had such a crush on the Manhattan leader, and it was rather obvious at times. She knew that he found it to be flattering but he didn't return her feelings. He was, after all, seventeen to her eleven, and that was a large age gap. Blink's mouth thinned into a line. Whenever he saw Pistol fawning over Flick it made him jealous beyond reason. That fact alone bothered him besides the fact that she was head over heels for another boy.

            "C'mon Mush, let's get going." Mush darted a glance back at Blink's face and squared shoulders before bending over to pick up his stack of newspapers. Today was going to be a long day.

            "If you could pick any of the boys to kiss you who would it be?" Bourbon snorted and flicked the butt of her cigarette away from her. Tossing back her hair she tapped her chin with a dirty finger thoughtfully.

            "Here in Manhattan or anywhere else?" Pistol lightly punched her friend on the shoulder and made a face. Bourbon held up her hands and laughed.

            "Okay, okay. I guess I'd have to pick…and don't worry I won't say Flick, I guess it would be Repeat." Pistol clapped her hands together and giggled. Repeat was one of the older boys at fifteen. He had black hair and brown eyes that always shone with mischief. Pistol definitely wasn't surprised that Bourbon had chosen Repeat Shaw. Bourbon grinned and poked Pistol in the side.

            "So who would you choose? Blink or Flick?" Pistol gave her a blank look.

            "What d'you mean Blink?" Bourbon sighed impatiently.

            "The kid thinks you're cute can't ya tell? He always looks like he's going to blow his top whenever you giggle and flutter your eyelashes at Flick. Who by the way is NEVER going to go out with an eleven year old." Pistol was always taken aback by Bourbon's directness when it came to things but she was stunned to hear about Blink.

            "What're you dense? You honestly couldn't tell?" Pistol shook her head and Bourbon rolled her eyes. 

            "Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ. Sometimes you girls are so dumb." And with that, she rose, dragging Pistol up from the bench they had been resting on. It was time to go pick up the afternoon edition of the paper.

            "Hold still!"

            "Ahhh watch where you're aiming those things!!"

            "If you hold still it won't be a problem!"

            "Help! Mush, Jack, Race, Chowder somebody HELP ME!" Pistol blew out a huge sigh of frustration and punching Blink in the stomach, shot Flick a look of such determination that he laughed and helped her hold him down while she once again picked up the pair of scissors she had been holding before Blink had tried to escape.

            "I don't see why you can't just hold still Kid." Blink didn't say anything, just gritted his teeth and winced every time she cut of a chunk of his hair. It was hair-cut day today a fact which some of the boys had remembered and had disappeared soon after selling the afternoon papers. The ones who had forgotten were greeted at the door by Pistol clacking the scissors together with a towel draped over her shoulder, a maniacal grin on her narrow face.

            "Be afraid, be very afraid," Bourbon had crowed from her seat on the couch. Kloppman had been sitting behind the battered desk that took up most of the lobby, trying to hide the smile on his leathery face. 

            "There, I'm done. That wasn't so hard now was it?" Blink mumbled something incoherent and stood up from the rickety chair, dusting blonde hairs off of him. Scrubbing a hand through his now shorter and slightly uneven mop, he trotted outside to smoke. Shouts arose from inside and he grinned as he heard Racetrack's high pitched cries of terror.

            "This hair does NOT get touched! D'you hear me you crazy dame? I slick it back with pomade, I don't NEED a haircut. HELP!" Crashes and shouts rang out and Blink doubled over with laughter before sauntering off down the sidewalk. He had time before Kloppman locked the doors, so he decided to take a walk. 

            A while later he looked around and was taken aback to realize that he was in his old neighborhood in the Bowery. Some men hanging about on a front stoop watched him closely as he made his way down the street, shoulders hunched. 

            "Hey aren't you Charlie Needham's kid?" The drunken voice rasped out in the night air and Blink slowly stopped and turned his head to look at who had spoken. To his shock, he saw that it was Timothy, his father's friend and Mush's dad. Fear lanced through his stomach. If Timothy was out of prison then so was his father. If his father found him now, he'd make him go back to live with him and steal for him. Blink liked his life now. It was tough, but he was part of a real family and he didn't want to throw that away.

            "Naw I don't know who you're talking about," was all he said before he turned around and quickly walked back the way he had come. He heard the man shout something else out at him, but he didn't reply. When he made his way back to the lodging house, he came upon Racetrack, Jack, Mush, Skittery, and Bumlets sitting out on the front stoop, all with grumpy looks on their faces and all with shorter, uneven hair. 

            Blink couldn't help it, he started laughing and he couldn't stop. He knew he looked just as ridiculous as them but to see them all sitting in a row, miserable on the front steps brought our tears leaking from his eyes and stomach-wrenching whoops. 

            "I don't know what you're laughing at Blink, you look just as stupid," Race spat before biting the end off of his cigar savagely. Jack punched a fist into his other hand and looked up resolutely.

            "If I become leader, she ain't ever cutting our hair again. I will make that a promise." Mush laughed, his eyes dancing. It didn't take much to get him out of a bad mood.

            "I'd like to see the day you tell Pistol what to do and she listens, Cowboy." Jack shot Blink a sly glance and winked at Mush.

            "Who says I'll have to? I'll just make Blink tell her." Blink heard the jeering catcalls of his friends and felt his ears turning red. Flipping them off he sneered at them and slapped a few upside the head. He got a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach suddenly and looked up to see Pistol standing in the doorway watching them. She looked…well he couldn't describe how she looked. She had a weird expression on her face but when she saw Blink staring at her it quickly vanished.

            "Flick says it's time to come to bed. I know you all want to stay up and enjoy your lovely haircuts, but what the boss says goes." And with that, she turned on her heel and vanished. All the boys got upstairs and trooped inside and up to the bunkroom. Blink fell asleep thinking about his father, and Pistol. He hoped that the knot of worry that was curled up in his stomach would go away soon. 

**Shout Outs!**

**Nada Zimri – Thanks I'm glad you like my characters. I worry that sometimes they aren't very solid or something. Hehehe…Mush's six-pack. I actually haven't watched Newsies in awhile but when I do my favoritest part is when Jack, Boots, and David go to ****Brooklyn**** and you first meet Spot. I love it. Mmm…Spot.  It's easy when you watch a movie over and over to pick out little things that aren't so obvious the first time around. I like to do that. And no, I'm not going to get bored with this story. Although I'm anxious to start my Spot one. Woo this was long.**

**Pokey7 – I thought it would be cute to see the newsies as little kids. Thanks, I'm glad it didn't suck. D'you still want to be in my stories? I can't remember if I asked you if I could use your character for this one and my Spot story. I don't like pushover girls either. I'm not one, and I model my girl characters after me to an extent. I still have a crush on Spot.**

**JamieBell – UPDATE YOUR STORY NOW! I command thee! Thanks I'm not getting bored with this I think I just needed a little break. I have to get the plot squared away in my head too, that'll help. With my other story I'd be at work and stuff would just show up in my mind and I'd have to write it down as soon as I got home. I hope that happens with this one!**

**My dog ate my penname – I hope I got your character right! Pistol is definitely feisty. Thanks I'm glad you don't think it sucked :D Yeah I tried to make 'em cute as little kids although Hell they're cute as BIG kids too. **

**Yo, Spot quit changing the channel you KNOW you like P&P.**

**Spot: SHUT UP MISERY! *hides the remote* you HIT me Spitball?! *cries***

**Oh Geez. Now look what we did….**


	5. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokey, Pokey7 owns Pokey. I own the rest of the original characters, and alas I do not own Newsies or it's movie idea. **

            "Ten bucks says Heaven Sent wins this race."

            "You don't HAVE ten bucks, Racetrack."

            "I will when I win this race."

            "But then you'd have to give it all to me."

            "Not if I turn out to be an Indian giver and I run away."

            "Jackass."

            "Pansy."

            "Pistol! Cut it out. Same goes for you Race." Both Pistol and Race crossed their eyes and stuck out their tongues when Blink looked away. Collapsing into a heap of giggles, Pistol slapped Race's shoulder. The short Italian wiggled his dark eyebrows at her and she snorted with laughter again. Blink shot them a murderous look. 

            They were spending their afternoon wiling away the hours together at Sheepshead. Afterwards, there was supposedly a get together in Brooklyn hosted by Spot. Now that the three were 14 or 15, they were allowed to go. Pistol smiled and stretched before leaning up against the railing. She loved watching the horses run for all they were worth, the animals were truly beautiful. 

            Racetrack had taken her to meet some of the jockey's one day, apparently his father had been a jockey and that's where his love for the racetrack had come from. The men had taken her to see their horses and she had spent twenty minutes scratching noses and feeding them carrots.

            "Are we meeting Mush at Tibby's later before we all head to Brooklyn or are we just hanging out here until it's time and going to Spot's?" Spot Conlon had officially taken over the Brooklyn newsies earlier that year. Sneaks O'Halloran had stepped down and left Spot his cane, a black affair with a shiny gold top. 

            "We're supposed to just go there. Seeing as how we're already in Brooklyn." Race nodded and lost interest in talking to them once the gun was fired and the horses erupted from their stalls, tearing up the racetrack. Pistol watched the horses thunder down the track, clods of dirt flying in the air, the jockey's yelling. When she glanced over, Blink was watching her with an expression on his face that bordered sad. He saw her looking and quickly shot his gaze towards the opposite direction.

            Gritting her teeth, she shook a cigarette out of the pouch she carried them in, and jammed it between her lips. Bumming a match off of the portly man to one side of her, she furiously inhaled and exhaled. Bringing her shaking hand down to steady it on the metal railing, she was shocked to see a larger, boyish hand gently settle down on top of it.

            Her blue eyes shot up and came to see Blink smiling down at her, a wink making her grin before he moved away and she was left alone, standing next to Race. For some sudden unknown reason she wished that Blink hadn't taken his hand away. Flick was going to step down any day now, to leave Jack Kelly as leader in his stead. Everyone knew it, and Pistol also knew that her infatuation with the older boy was over. It wasn't anything he had done; she just didn't feel the same about him. Whenever she was around Blink and it made her short of breath didn't help either. 

            "Ah hell," Racetrack muttered as Heaven Sent came in second. Throwing his cigar stub to the ground, he stepped on it and spat in frustration before tossing his hands up into the air and straightening his checkered, overly large vest.

            "Let's go to Spot's, I want a beer." Pistol smothered a laugh behind a dirty hand while she took a drag off of her cigarette and ran another hand through her mussed red hair.

            "You shouldn't drink Race, you're too young." Racetrack shot her a look and shrugged his narrow shoulders.

            "I may be too young but there ain't nobody around to care what I do. So let's get going already." Pistol felt a jolt of sorrow hit her and she slung a wiry arm around Race's neck and squeezed fiercely.

            "I care you bastard. Remember that for me, okay?" The boy looked taken aback but he awarded her with a smile and a wink which immediately made her feel better before he skipped along the sidewalk, dragging her along singing a sailor's shanty.

            "Blink help me!" 

            "You chose your own fate when you let him start singing AND you cut our hair." Racetrack let Pistol go and she charged Kid Blink only to make him drop to the sidewalk in a heap of arms ands legs, her nose glued to the tip of his own.

            "When I ask for your help, you give it no questions asked. Don't you love me?" Blink swallowed hard and his face turned an interesting shade of crimson. Pistol blinked at him and felt something within her own chest rising, something she didn't want to deal with so she rose and aimed a kick at his side, missing on purpose.

            "I know you love me, you don't have to prove it. Now 'I' want a beer. Let's get the hell going." Racetrack shook his head, adjusting his cabby hat. The trio walked on until they reached the docks, where nearby an abandoned warehouse squatted. Two burly boys stood near the entrance, scowling. They changed their expressions when they approached, spit-shaking with Race and Blink. They entered the house only to be slapped in the face with cigarette smoke, loud talking, and music provided by a boy who was picking on a guitar, his hair in his eyes, which were half-closed.

            Spot Conlon lounged in a chair, surrounded by girls his age and older, all provocatively dressed, and looking worse the wear. Pistol grimaced and wouldn't have gone anywhere near them if he hadn't seen her and waved her over. She reluctantly plodded towards him and stood her hands deep in her trouser pockets, copper hair hanging around her face.

            "What's shakin' Pistol?"

            "Nothin' are the 'hattan boys here yet?" Spot shook his head and lit a cigarette. He had only grown in height the past few years and that was even saying too much. Pistol thought that he would always be on the scrawny side, something that would perpetually piss him off.

            "They should be here any minute, want a drink?" When she nodded eagerly he chuckled and handed her a dirty glass that one of his henchman had filled with an amber liquid. She gulped it down and handed her glass to him for a refill. 

            "Damn girl, you could keep pace with me if you wanted to." Pistol gave him a grin and a wink.

            "Yeah but that's only if I wanted to. You can keep your hangovers to yourself; I only drink enough to know when enough's enough." One of Spot's blonde whores blinked and looked at her like she didn't know what color the sky was. Pistol cackled before shoving off and stowing herself securely by Blink's side as he leaned up against a wall, a beer in his hand, cautiously sipping at it.  

            Blink slung an arm around her neck, pulling her towards him, without a thought. Pistol didn't say anything; this felt comfortable to her. Drowning down her pint, she gave him an apologetic smirk as she made her way out into the crowded room to find another. Shouts arose suddenly and she herself let a cry rip as she saw the Manhattan newsies enter the lodging house. Bourbon bounced over to her side and Pistol greeted her amicably before she saw the girl's eyes dart around till they rested on a boy who resembled Repeat closely. This boy had the same black hair and brown eyes, but his facial features and body were different. He was known as Riddle, and Pistol could tell Bourbon fancied him.

            Jack, Skittery, Mush, Bumlets, Pie Eater, Snoddy, Snitch, Crutchy, and a few of the other newer Manhattan boys sauntered over to where she stood with Blink. Some of them cast knowing glances in their direction which caused Blink to stand a few feet away from her. She ignored it, and chose to talk to Crutchy and Bumlet's about the rough day they had had. 

            When Pistol's eyes sought Blink out she saw him talking to Mush and Jack. They were all laughing and slapping each other's backs and joking around. It hurt her that she could only be included to a certain point. She saw Nell kissing some older Brooklyn boy in one of the corner's and found Bourbon arm-wrestling Riddle. For some reason she wasn't surprised to see that and she let out a giggle.

            "Having fun?" She looked over to see a girl standing next to her. She wasn't a familiar face, so she must be from Brooklyn. Pistol was slightly taken aback. Spot had made it widely known that he didn't hold with having girl newsies in Brooklyn. She knew there were a few; they had proven themselves to be tough and reliable. 

            The girl had long brown hair that was flung over one shoulder in a braid. Grayish-green eyes looked at her in a friendly enough sort of way. She wore faded brown pants and had a green button-down shirt tucked neatly inside at the waist. She was average sized, and Pistol didn't find her to be threatening. In fact, she was smiling and had her nose scrunched up at all the cigarette smoke, making the freckles that were sprinkled across her nose and cheeks almost disappear.

            "I'm Pokey," she said sticking out a hand which Pistol took promptly and shook it. They made small talk for awhile, and after an hour or so Pistol excused herself to find a bathroom. Pokey told her where there was one, so she wandered away down a hallway that was lit with gas lamps until she reached a pitted, scuffed door. 

            When she exited a few minutes later, her face wrinkled in distaste; the Brooklyn boys weren't blessed with a Kloppman to tend to their lodging house. All they had was an O'Malley and he was a regular down at the pub. They were lucky if he even remembered to come home most of the time. Something told her she wasn't alone in the hallway.

            A hand clamped down onto her shoulder, and she could smell booze. A slurred male voice sent shivers down her spine as she was whirled about. She didn't recognize the boy standing in front of her. He was tall, and muscular with shaggy dirty blonde hair and gray eyes that were tinged with red.

            "Where you goin' doll? Need some company?" Pistol stuck her hand in her pocket, frantically searching for the brassknuckles Blink had given to her a year ago. The boy as if sensing that she was looking for a weapon, pinned her up against the wall and tried to kiss her. Pistol felt like vomiting and she struggled, kicking at his shins.

            "Stop moving around bitch, this won't hurt. Relax, you might even like it." A rough hand jammed down the front of her blouse and began to grope around. He pressed her up against the wall with his body, using his other hand to cover her mouth.

            "What the FUCK do you think you're doing to her?" Both Pistol and the boy's eyes shot over to where a thoroughly enraged Blink, Mush and Racetrack stood in the hallway. Blink's one good eye was practically bulging out of his head and Mush made a half-hearted attempt to hold him back before looking at Racetrack and grinning; "Nah".

            Blink flew at the boy, his fists pounding the kid's head back so quick that Pistol let out a yelp of shock. The boy fell to the ground, so drunk and taken aback that he didn't have a chance. Mush wrapped Pistol into his arms and pulled her out of the way as the trio silently watched Blink pound at the boy, straddled over his fallen form. 

            "Enough Blink," a rough voice grated out. Again, they all started in shock to see Spot Conlon and Jack Kelly joining their group. Spot frowned as Blink ignored him, and he and Jack forcibly removed the maddened teenager from the still body.

            "ENOUGH Blink, you'll fuckin' kill him if you keep it up. Riddle, take Noose up to his room." The quiet boy did so, hoisting up the larger, older boy as if he were a sack of feathers. Spot tilted Pistol's chin up with a gentle hand, his normally cold eyes worried.

            "You okay sweet face?" When she nodded he smiled back and chucked her under the chin. Pistol was shaking as Mush led her out of the lodging house, past many curious eyes into the Brooklyn night. 

            "I can't, I can't….." Mush lit a cigarette for her and Racetrack rubbed her back in calming circular motions. Blink was being given a lecture inside by Jack until he could calm down. Pistol was horrified at the violent creature he had instantaneously become but also touched that he had reacted that way. She shuddered and Mush tightened his grip around her until Blink appeared on the stairway and loped easily down towards where they stood, bathed in moonlight.

            He stood silently watching her for a moment, gauging her reaction towards what he had done until she looked up at him, her large blue eyes shining with tears. Blink felt a pain tear through him and he held his arms open. Sobbing and hiccupping, she ran into them, her thin frame racked with tears. He held her, his cheek pressed against the top of her head, making 'Shhh' sounds as he rocked back and forth. 

            "I'm here for you Pistol, remember that. I'm always, always going to be here for you." Pistol gave a large hiccup and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Together, with his arm around her shoulders they made the walk back to the Manhattan lodging house. That promise was something neither of them ever forgot. 

**Shout Outs!**

**Et-spiritus-sancti – I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to lose an eye. I know after I got my wisdom teeth pulled, it felt like they were still there forever, but that finally went away. I'm glad you've gotten as far as you have with my stories and you like them! **

**Pokey7 – I definitely agree, she's more the slow to anger but when you do watch out type in my opinion, or that's how I like to write her character. I like the older and way taller guys too ;D Thanks for letting me use your character in my stories, I like to write her!**

**Nada Zimri—Mmm….as solid as Mush's abs….now that's a great comparison.**** I love picking out bloopers in movies, it cracks me up. I usually can't find them until they're pointed out to me though. Then I get a kick out of trying to find other ones.**

**My dog ate my penname – In this story, you shall have lines. Oh yes, you shall. Nah you don't stalk him, but you are going to make his life hell for awhile, muahahaha….*lightening cracks***

**Skittery: Uhm…Misery?**

***stops rubbing hands and cackling* Yes?******

**Skittery: Calm down okay? *inches towards door***

**NEVER! Yeah I liked the haircutting scene too….one of my funnier moments. **

**Spot: Sheesh. She adds 'y' to all of our names. I bet I know one you CAN'T do that to…Bumletsy, *ponders* Okay so you can…but AHA! What about the ones that ALREADY end in 'y'?! *smirks***

**Jamie Bell – Oh I would DEFINITELY make them wash at least once or twice a week…them and their clothes…*thinks* Hmmm…*scribbles* thanks for the idea! Good, I hope you update soon I love your story. **


	6. Chapter Six

A/N – I don't own Jocelyn "Jaws" and Joaquin, they are owned by Jocelyn Padoga. I also don't own Spitball she is owned by My Dog Ate My Penname and Pokey is owned by Pokey7. There I think that covers it.

Everyone should go check out JamieBell's Newsies story, 'Susannah and the Newsie'. I recommend it. And Nada Zimri's story 'Lifelong Choices' and also RiotAct's 'Going Home'. Yup that's it.

          "Hey Pistol, wait up." Pistol obediently stopped to let Kid Blink and one of the new kids catch up. The new boy was named Joaquin and he was one of the new additions to the Manhattan Lodging House. With dark brown hair and green eyes, he always had a ready smile.

          The few other newcomers were mostly girls, two named Shakes and Becca and another little boy called Squirt. Pistol vaguely missed Misery and Racetrack, but soon after they had gotten engaged, they had moved out of the lodging house with Misery's infant son Joshua. Pistol still saw Racetrack and Misery almost every day. Misery no longer sold papers, but Race worked at Sheepshead as a bookie and Blink and Mush visited him all the time.

          "Are you going to Medda's tonight Pistol?" She nodded at Blink while humming under her breath. It was widely rumored that she was a few eggs short of a dozen, or in other words touched in the head. Blink didn't care; he still loved to spend time with her.

          "I can't believe Jack tried to change the curfew. Silly boy, he was only a newsie a few months ago. Just because he took over Kloppman's job doesn't give him the right to lord it over us." Blink grinned down at Pistol. He agreed with her, and although he and Mush were basically the leaders in the lodging house now, they still didn't have any sway over Jack unlike when Jack had been able to talk Kloppman into anything.

          "My sister is singing tonight at Medda's. Her first solo, she's going to be fantastic." Pistol listened to Joaquin bubble on about his sister Jocelyn, nicknamed 'Jaws'. The gentle girl was Joaquin's twin and she had been at Medda's for a year or so ever since the pair's parents had been killed in a fire. Pistol knew Mush had a thing for her, but he was too shy to say anything which cracked Pistol up to no end.

          "Alright when is Spot coming with his boys? We need to head to Queens soon to talk to Hebrew and there's no way in Hell we're going just us." Mush had appeared suddenly and Pistol jumped a little. They were heading to meet Spot and then to a meeting with Hebrew Feldman the new leader of Queens. Hebrew apparently had a big problem with the alliance of Manhattan and Brooklyn and had been sending runners to either leaders trying to convince them the folly of such a connection. He was trying to ruin something good and there was no way either borough was going to let him.

          "Getting antsy Mushy? I'm right here; don't get your knickers in a knot." Spot sauntered down the sidewalk trailed by some of his largest boys including Riddle, and a few girls, Bourbon and Pokey amongst them. Pistol launched herself at Bourbon, allowing the older taller girl to heft her up and swing her around. Pistol may have been sixteen, but she was as small as Misery who was only 4"11.

          After Misery had returned from New Hampshire, Bourbon had gone to Brooklyn to be with Riddle. She looked happy and Pistol was glad. Spot shot them a disapproving look as Bourbon set Pistol down onto her feet, and she snidely stuck her tongue out at him. Shock crossed the Brooklyn boy's face before he broke out into a smirk and cuffed her head.

          "Fuckin' nut ya are Pistol. Watch out for this one boys, if there's fighting she goes crazy with her switchblade." Pistol attempted to look menacing and the kids all laughed, more than a few of them taking fake swipes at her head with gentle fists. Blink had a worried look on his face as he crossed his arms and waited for the two groups to be done greeting each other.

          Pistol attached herself to Bourbon's sleeve. The girls were wearing their normal attire, boys clothing with their hair tied up and tucked under hats. Misery had given Pistol her old bowler hat and Pistol wore it cocked jauntily over her red hair. Bourbon wore one of Riddle's cabby hats and had a club tucked into her back pocket. Pistol was the only tough Manhattan girl now whereas Brooklyn only had tough girls.

          She nodded at the two other girls accompanying Spot. One was short and stocky with a scar on her cheek and shoulder length straw-colored hair. Her gray eyes were cool and she almost never smiled. Her name was Annabelle but the newsies called her Icicle. The other girl was tall and also well-built. She was just called Red, and nobody knew why since she had dirty blonde hair and green eyes.

          "Let's get this party started, Medda's show starts soon." The group of kids trooped down alleyways and back streets so as not to draw attention to themselves. Pistol felt her adrenaline beginning to rush through her veins and she gave Bourbon a gleeful smile.

          "No trouble now Pistol," Blink said into her ear catching her grin. Spot gave her an indulgent smirk and kinked an eyebrow up at Blink who gave him a stony look back.

          "Ah leave the girl alone, she won't cause no harm. I always said you should be a Brooklyn dame," Spot lightly slapped Pistol's face and she took a swing at him, which he easily dodged, laughing. For some reason Spot felt like an older brother to her and he taunted her as one would all the time.

          Blink stepped over a puddle of God only knew what and then around a pile of trash as they navigated their way through a narrow alley. He watched the byplay between Spot and Pistol and felt his guts tighten. Mush tossed him a knowing look which Blink struggled to ignore. If they weren't surrounded by kids he would have said something cutting about Mush's feelings for Jaws. Shame coursed through him at that idea and he resolutely decided to never give Mush grief about Jaws.

          Deep down Blink knew that Spot didn't think of Pistol in a romantic way. They were too much alike in their aloofness and shying away of sharing feelings. But when the two got going it never failed to create a fluttering of panic in his belly. Cursing silently he stalked ahead of the pair, not seeing the slightly hurt, bemused look Pistol shot his stiff back.

          "What's his deal?" Pokey who had joined Pistol and Spot shot her an incredulous look and snorted.

          "Are you serious?" Pistol tried to scratch her head then mumbled under her breath before removing her bowler hat and THEN scratching her head. Blinking at Spot and Pokey she rolled her eyes and launched herself at Riddle and Bourbon who were walking up ahead. Clinging to Riddle's back like a monkey, she tried spurring him on digging her heels into his sides.

          "Giddy up ya bum!" Riddle grabbed the neck of her shirt and flipped her over his shoulder and carried her under one arm. Hollering and squirming she tried biting at him while he laughed.

          "You're lucky we like you, ya crazy broad," was all he said. Pistol grunted in reply and let him swing her along before he grew tired of it and set her on her feet. By then they had reached Queens and the mood of the group swiftly turned solemn.

          When they reached the old warehouse that the Queens newsies called home, Spot was swaggering along with his chest puffed out, eyes narrowed dangerously and cane at the ready. Blink and Mush both put on their tough faces, something which Mush used to have a problem with in the beginning of his leadership but which he now could do at will.

          Pistol and the girls hung back, they were there to mediate if things got heavy, and to also lend a hand in the fighting if need be. The Queens and Harlem newsies didn't let girls join in the fighting period. They wouldn't readily believe that the girls were there to fight, hence creating an element of surprise if they did jump in. Pistol knew that every single Brooklyn kid had a weapon on them. She could see them shifting so that their hands were near wherever they had them hidden on their bodies.

          Spot strode up to the door to the warehouse and rapped on it smartly with his cane. Crossing his arms, he stood next to Blink and Mush as they waited. It didn't take long for the door to open and when it did, they were taken aback to see a raven-haired beauty with brown eyes and a nice figure her dress did nothing to hide.

          "Can I help you?" Spot snorted and smirked at the same time. He wasn't easily affected by pretty girls, they were a dime a dozen. Taking the girl in with a downward then upward glance he dismissed her just as fast.

          "We're here to see Hebrew." Now it was Pistol's turn to have her stomach go sour. Blink was gazing at the girl like he had never seen anything female in his life. Crossing her arms and gripping her elbows tightly she glared daggers at the girl.

          "I'm Hebrew's sister Ruth. He's expecting you, come on in." Spot, Mush, and Blink disappeared into the building followed by Joaquin and the Brooklyn boys. The girls were expected to wait outside unless something happened. But Pistol and Bourbon shouldered their way past the last few Brooklyn newsies and joined the boys as they entered a dimly lit hallway that opened up into a large room. Furnished with a table, some chairs, and a woodstove, it had only the bare necessities. A staircase disappeared up the side of one of the walls to where the bunkroom must be.

          A group of boys sat around the table, the tallest one rising as they entered. Spot and Blink shot Bourbon and Pistol disapproving glances before Spot sent two of his boys out to keep track of the other girls. The tall boy spat into his hand and stuck it out to Spot and Spot spat into his own before clasping their hands together. The ritual was repeated with Mush and Blink.

          Hebrew, the tall boy who had stood up, was solidly built with black hair and brown eyes. He had a largish nose and when he smiled, he was missing one of his front teeth. But instead of making him look goofy, it lent a dangerous air to his already volatile personality. The rest of the Queens boys were the same. While they didn't radiate as hostile of an air as the Brooklyn boys always did, they definitely weren't there to drink tea or play cards.

          Hebrew waved a hand to some empty chairs and they all quickly found seats, Riddle keeping Bourbon by his side, while Spot and Blink made Pistol sit in a chair right behind them. Ruth stood against the wall behind her brother, and it was all Pistol could do to not stare at her in disgust.

          "Gentlemen," Hebrew's voice was raspy and sounded like it wasn't used that often. He raised dark eyebrows at Spot, Blink, and Mush before placing his hands on the table in front of him. His knuckles were swollen from recent fights and his eyes were flat.

          "Shall we begin?"

**SHOUT OUTS**

**Smiley Cad – Yay a new reviewer! :::dances:::: I'm glad you like my stories, the only reason I wasn't updating this was because I got writer's block but I'm ready to start writing a lot again. Thanks for the review! **

**Kays14 – Thanks that's too nice of ya to say :D  I didn't do a Spot story first but I have one up now! I couldn't not write a Spot story, it's Spot…**

**Erin**** Go Bragh – I LOVE your penname. It's rockin'. Thanks for the review.**

**Pokey7 – Good I'm glad I do your character justice. Yep Pistol is definitely a do what I say, not what I do type of person. I liked how Blink comforted her too. He better after getting all scary on that guy.**

**JamieBell – Nah I'm not the only one who likes your story. Your story rocks. I'll have to promote it. Yep I will do that. I have a few guy friends who would beat up mean guys for me. That's only because I'm little height wise so they get all big brother on me. I definitely couldn't love a wimp, therefore neither can Pistol.  I'm glad Blink seems like how he is in the movie. **

**Nada Zimri – Oooh I remember that shiver part in 'Under My Thumb'. I was proud of that part. This one did the same thing? Score! ::thumbs up::**

**My Dog Ate My Penname – The ankle grabbing!! Ooooh….::Watches Spot and Spitball:::**

**Man, he sure showed you!**

**Spot: I did, didn't I? ::smirk:: Now it's time to watch 'Great Expectations'. **

**::slaps forehead:: We've created a monster, Spitball….**

**Yep there is definitely something going on between Pistol and Blink. Eventually anyway.**


	7. Chapter Seven

**          A/N – I don't own Emotions or Wolf they are owned by Emotions. Nor do I own Pokey, she is owned by Pokey7, or Joaquin and Jaws they are owned by Jocelyn Padoga and lastly I don't own Spitball she is owned by My Dog Ate My Penname. **

**Newsies: Ahem? ::clears throats::**

**Oh yeah and I suppose I don't own them either. Disney does. – A/N**

Pistol fidgeted on her chair and gently traced a gouge on the table's surface with a dirty finger. She was already tired of listening to the boys playing at being hardened men, trying to strike deals on their alliances and territories. Spot was as usual arrogant and unwilling to give into anything that Hebrew suggested. Hebrew wanted the same rights as the Manhattan boys, for his Newsies to be able to go into Brooklyn without getting harassed but Spot would have none of it.

          "Queens and Manhattan ain't the same Hebrew," Spot said coldly, tapping ash from a cigarette that he used to point in Hebrew's direction.

          "It took us a long time to get where we are with Brooklyn, Hebrew.  You can't just all of a sudden demand the same respect that took us years to get." Blink was more subtle and placating. Mush nodded his face earnest.

          Spot rolled his eyes, an action which didn't go unnoticed. Hebrew's eyes narrowed and he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Spot did the same and the temperature in the room went down a few degrees. Pistol noticed a few of the Queens' boys cracking their knuckles and shifting.

          Finally Hebrew gave them a small, creepy smile and stood up, clapping his hands together. The Manhattan and Brooklyn newsies stood up along with him.

          "I can see that we're going to make no progress here today gentlemen. Just take my ideas and think them over. I'll send runners out to you around the end of the week to arrange another meeting." With that he spit into his hand and shook with Blink, Mush, and Spot. Spot seemed reluctant to do so, but he clenched his jaw and did it nevertheless. There was no love lost between Brooklyn and Queens, and Pistol had the feeling that it would always be that way.

          On the way out the door, Pistol noticed Blink eyeing Hebrew's sister Ruth like he wanted to stop and talk to her. Pausing, he whispered something into her ear which made her cock her head and look at him for a few moments before giving him a small smile. Blink jammed his hands into his pockets and turned away after smiling back, his face flushing red.

          Pistol rolled her eyes and quickly left the lodging house, the tips of her ears turning crimson with anger. She was confused as to why Blink paying attention to another girl made her so mad, and that made her even more furious. Kicking a stone as hard as she could, she jumped in shock when a hand clamped down onto her shoulder.

          Looking up, she grinned when she saw who it was. Two Brooklyn newsies stood with the rest of the girls who had waited outside. The wrist that the hand was attached to had a tattoo adorning it; a Y overlapping an N.

          "Where's the fire Pistol?"

          "Hi Emotions, Hey Wolf." Emotions tucked a strand of her auburn hair behind one of her ears and crossed her arms. She was wearing black pants, a long-sleeved blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a black cabby hat was on her head. Hazel eyes that were more on the green side winked merrily at Pistol.

          Emotions was one of Pistol's favorite Brooklyn girls. She was naturally just as hyper and energetic as Pistol, and the two together could make people want to pull their hair out in frustration when they got each other going. Wolf, Emotions' boyfriend had his arm slung around her shoulder.

          He was tall; Pistol had to crane her neck up when she looked at him. He had tanned, dusky skin like Mush with dark brown, slightly curly hair. A scar from a fight with Spot ran from the bottom of his left ear alongside his jaw. But it was Wolf's eyes that were the most noticeable, one being dark blue, and the other a light green.

          Pistol reached up and flicked the top hat that sat jauntily on his head. He blinked at her and quickly put up a hand to stop it from falling off before cracking a grin and shaking a finger at her warningly. Wolf wore black pants and an off-white shirt unbuttoned slightly so that you could see the undershirt underneath. He also wore a long reddish-black trench coat covered with patches that he had found in an alley along with the top hat.

          Spot joined them then, his blue eyes iced over with anger from the meeting. He gave Wolf a hard glower before lighting a cigarette. Wolf and Spot used to fight like dogs over a soup bone but had become quite close after Spot became leader of Brooklyn. Although Riddle was set to become the leader after Spot stepped down, everyone knew that Spot counted Wolf as his other right hand man.

          Wolf just watched Spot calmly, his odd eyes tinged with humor. Pistol waited for the usual sarcastic crack to spill forth from his mouth, but for some reason Wolf seemed to gauge Spot's mood just right and held his tongue.

          "A little late, aren't ya?" Spot spat flecks of tobacco from his tongue and tapped his foot, his jaw squared. Wolf shrugged serenely and Emotions stepped away, toying with a silver necklace around her neck.

          "We're here ain't we?"

          "AFTER the meeting has ENDED."

          "Ahhh yes but we still came." Spot let out a hiss of exasperation and stalked ahead, his cane swinging from his belt loop looking like an alley cat lashing his tail in fury. Pistol snorted with laughter, and Emotions hunched her shoulders up and covered her mouth.

          "Awww everyone picks on Spotty too much," she said with a grin, wrinkling up her freckled nose. Pistol looked after Spot and placed a hand to her heart looking sad before slapping her knee and cracking up. Wolf finally grinned, and let loose a laugh.

          "I like the boy but he sure wears his pants pulled up his arse a bit much. Too high-strung, anger problems as well." Laughing, the trio walked down the alley that led them out of Queens, Pistol pointedly ignoring Blink when he walked up alongside her. Casting her a curious glance, he just shook his head and fell back. Both Emotions and Wolf gave her looks that she ignored as well.

          "Are you okay? Did he do something?" Pistol cracked a grin at the sight of Emotions instantly ready to go jump on Blink and give him a talking to amongst other things, her fists were already clenched. Shaking her head, she hummed tunelessly under her breath until Wolf snapped his fingers in front of her face.

          "The lady asked you a question, are you okay kid?" Pistol looked up at them both. They had worried looks on their faces and she dredged up another smile and did a goofy dance step.

          "Of course I'm okay, I'm always okay." Grabbing Emotions' hand she whirled her around in a lively jig and the two girls danced up the alley giggling and singing.

          Later that night, Pistol lay on her bunk in the Manhattan Lodging House watching the rest of the girls get ready to go to Medda's. She didn't feel as connected to this group of girls as she had when Bourbon and Misery lived there. She liked them well enough, but she wasn't close to any of them. Sometimes she mulled over the idea of going to live in Brooklyn. She knew Spot would take her in a heartbeat.

          Getting up, she trudged down to the lobby where Jack sat at Kloppman's old desk, his tongue sticking out, brow furrowed in concentration. She saw him adding figures on the ledger, using his fingers to help him count. Shaking her head and smiling fondly, she walked up to him and hoisted herself up onto the desk, her legs hanging down.

          "Hey Jacky-boy, whatcha doin'?" Jack looking thankful for the interruption pushed the book away and dropped the pencil alongside it.

          "Didn't I tell ya not to call me that?" Pistol rolled her eyes and tried to look serious.

          "Sorry MISTER Kelly. What are ya doin' MISTER Kelly?" Jack laughed and swatted at her head, making her duck and yelp before giving him a wet willie.

          "Awww…Gross Pistol!" Making a face, he swiped at his ear with his sleeve and rubbed it furiously. Satisfied that all her spit was gone, he leaned back in his chair.

          "Call me Jack, you little street rat. I'm trying to finish these figures, but it's hard when I never went to school. I mean they taught me some stuff in the orphanage but Geez…"

          Pistol had had some education so she went over his math and fixed some of his mistakes. He thanked her, and she tried not to grind her teeth when she saw Blink standing next to her.

          "Why are you acting like this?" Pistol dropped off of the desk to her feet and gave him an unreadable look.

          "I don't know what you're talking about." Taking a cigarette she had tucked into the band of her bowler hat, she went outside feeling the stares of both boys burning into her back. She almost took out David and Les; David's little brother, who were walking up the steps of the lodging house. Les, a skinny boy with messy brown hair and a thin, pale face poked at Pistol with his wooden sword. Pistol fell to the ground, pretending to die.

          Les gave a delighted laugh and then ran inside to find the rest of the smaller boys. Pistol nodded at David, who then walked inside to find Jack and the other older boys. She lit her cigarette and stood outside, smoking by herself.

          Soon the older kids came trickling out in groups of two or three. Together they walked to Medda's, causing their usual ruckus on the streets of Manhattan. The high society mostly ignored them or cast them looks of disgust, but there were other kids out and about who occasionally fell in with the group or shouted greetings.

          Pistol swaggered alongside Bumlets, Pie Eater, and Snoddy. Spitball had joined the gang and was working on irritating Skittery. Skittery, unusually cheery this evening finally put Spitball in a headlock and rubbed her head hard with a fist. Spitball keeled back and glared at him before sticking her tongue out.

          "Ya know if I hadn't known ya for years I swear I'd knock yer block off." Skittery rolled his eyes and cracked a smile, brushing his brown hair out of his eyes.

          "Whatever Spitball ya know ya love me." Spitball, normally able to respond to anything with a wisecrack opened her mouth and then closed it again just as swiftly. She had no response to that, and her cheeks flamed. Grabbing a hold of one of her long black curls, she yanked on it and then fled to the front of the pack, almost tripping Swifty and Jake on her way.

          "You shouldn't pick on the females, it makes them all cranky-like," Pistol stated, blowing a smoke ring. Suddenly someone lifted her up and twirled her around, and she dropped her cigarette, hollering. When she was put down, she whirled to find herself looking at a grinning Racetrack.

          "Race!" she hugged him fiercely and then let out a shout of joy to see Misery walking up the sidewalk behind him. Charging her, she almost knocked the petite girl flat on her behind as she tackled her. Misery steadied herself, laughing. Winking a hazel eye at the younger girl, she lit a cigarette and tucked a hand into the pocket of her black trousers.

          She wore a cranberry colored long sleeved shirt, and a vest. It was funny to see her dressing the same as the newsies although she was a mother now and stayed at home to take care of her son Joshua. Racetrack worked AT the racetrack now, as a bookie.

          "What's shakin' kid?" Racetrack wore his usual getup, his checkered vest, cabbie hat, black pants and a white shirt that needed to be cleaned and mended. Putting his arm around Misery's waist, they walked next to Pistol until they reached Medda's.

          Once inside, the Manhattan kids were surprised to see groups of newsies from all over the city like there had been at their rallies during the strike. Although the place was nowhere near as crowded, there were still more than the normal amount of kids milling around. Spot was there, residing at the cluster of tables in the center of the room in front of the stage. Most of the kids occupied the balcony seats. There were adults there as well, mostly men.

          Spot spied Misery and Racetrack and his jaw tightened. Pistol saw him put his attention onto the stage. The lights dimmed as the Manhattan kids took their seats. Music began to play, a lively number as a line of chorus girls danced out onto the stage. The newsies whistled and hollered at the girls, and they grew louder as one of them came forward.

          She wore a green costume that matched her eyes, and her long curly hair that was the color of chocolate was piled on top of her head. When she began to sing, a rousing song about a drunken night the newsies joined in. Joaquin put his fingers into his mouth and let out a piercing whistle. The girl singing was his sister, Jocelyn or more commonly known as Jaws.

          Pistol let her gaze wander around the room and the tables. Mush was watching Jaws with a rapt expression which caused her to stifle a chuckle. Pokey and Bourbon were giggling behind their hands at some joke that Riddle had told. Emotions and Wolf were having a discussion about some inside thing. Blink was sitting at a table with Ruth…

          Pistol's eyes bulged and she felt her temper rising. Blink was sitting with RUTH?! Slamming her hand down, she shakily lit up a cigarette. It was true, the pair were sitting together, glasses of ale in front of them, talking. Ruth was acting quite enamored with Blink, fluttering her eyelashes and twirling a lock of her hair in between slender fingers. When Ruth put a hand out and began to rub Blink's arm, Pistol stood up.

          "What's wrong?" Misery was looking up at her, her eyes worried. She whispered something to Racetrack and grabbing a hold of Pistol's sleeve, walked the girl outside. The night air was cool, and Pistol was glad of it, for it felt good on her flushed cheeks. Misery crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow at her.

          "Like I said, what's wrong?" Pistol choked out a laugh and horrified, felt tears prick her eyes. Raising her hands in a helpless gesture, she finally looked at Misery.

          "I don't even know where to begin…" Misery brushed a strand of hair out of Pistol's face and put a hand on her shoulder.

          "From the beginning I think would be a help."

          "Okay, but not here. Let's go to the park." Misery went inside to tell Racetrack where they were going, and then the two girls walked off, Pistol feeling a leaden weight in her gut as they headed towards the park. She didn't like talking about her feelings, but Misery was going to leave her no choice. This was something that would have to be dealt with, sooner it seemed than later.

**Shout Outs!**

**Smiley Cad – I'll write down who's with who so far, but I ain't giving anything away! **

**You already know the ****Manhattan**** newsies from the movie but here's a list so far…  Pistol – Manhattan, Emotions with Wolf both are from Brooklyn, Hebrew- Queens, Ruth-Queens, Misery with Racetrack they live in Brooklyn, Pokey is with Jack she is from Brooklyn, Bourbon is with Riddle they're both in Brooklyn, Jaws- Manhattan at Medda's, Joaquin-Manhattan, Shakes-Manhattan, Becca-Manhattan, Spitball-Queens, and that's pretty much it I think. If I left anyone out then I didn't mean to…**

**Kays14 – Thank ya! And boy do I agree… Spot is very hot…**

**Emotions – I hope I got Wolf and you right so far! Let me know if I didn't. And yes hopefully I'll develop things soon. **

**Just Duck – Soon my dear, soon.**** Muahaha…**

**Jamie Bell – Hah…I'm 4"11, that's why I make most of the girls so darn short. I could get a handicapped sticker but I don't want one. Squirt can be your friend and naw you aren't weird. Pistol is just quirky. At least I'm trying to make her overly so but I don't know if it's working.**

**Nada Zimri – Oi sorry I haven't been around a friend of mine passed away so I've been helping other friends deal with that. And yes the jealous is about to get worse. Heehee. I'm glad you like Pistol's craziness I've been worried that it hasn't been working. **

**Jocelyn Padoga – I'll be developing your character more in the next chapter but at least you made an appearance! Awww thanks :D Back atcha chickee! I'll try to make your brother more sarcastic but I'm glad I did okay with him so far!**


	8. Chapter Eight

            Misery was trying as hard as she could not to laugh at Pistol's obvious discomfort. Really, she WAS trying. Pistol looked up sharply as the two girls seated themselves on a bench in the park, when a honking snort issued forth from Misery's nose. When Pistol looked at Misery, the other girl clapped her hands over her face and hid against the arm of the bench, but nothing could hide her shaking shoulders and the sparkling trail of tears that had erupted from her eyes.

            "Why the hell are you laughin' at me?" Pistol slapped at Misery's upper arm and Misery jerked away, making a face but not stopping her laughter. Gasping for breath the older girl held up her hands and then wiped her tears onto her sleeve.

            "I'm so sorry Pistol, it's not that you're upset please believe I'd never laugh at that. I'm just remembering how reluctant I was with Race and then Bourbon when Riddle came to Manhattan to tell her that he had feelings for her. You would have thought that the end of the world was coming." Slightly mollified, Pistol stuck a cigarette into her mouth and lit it, taking a deep breath and exhaling loudly.

            "I don't have FEELINGS for Blink; I just get royally pissed off when I see him with other girls. Oh and he drives me crazy." Pistol thoughtfully exhaled and squinted one eye shut then nodded.

            "Yup he drives me crazy."

            "Do you get a fluttery feeling in your stomach when you see his face every day?" Pistol thought for a second and shrugged.

            "I guess so, but then again I eat A LOT of candy. Candy makes me sick. Especially when I mix it with sauerkraut on hot dogs." Misery made a face and scratched her chin. Pistol was going to be a tough egg to crack.

            "Ok well let's go back to how it makes you mad when you see him with other girls. WHY does it make you so mad?"

            "That's easy, because it means he's spending less time with me."

            "Pistol he spends every waking moment with either you or Mush."

            "As it should be."

            "So you don't think he should be trying to find a nice girl to spend some time with?" Pistol blew out a sputtering raspberry and rolled her eyes.

            "What does he need a nice girl with when he has me?"

            "Do you WANT to be his girlfriend?" Pistol hunkered down and finally gave Misery a forlorn look.

            "I've never even kissed him. How am I supposed to know the answer to that?" Misery gave a cry of triumph.

            "Maybe you should kiss him then. Usually when you kiss someone and you are both interested you can tell just from that kiss."

            "Boys have cooties."

            "PISTOL!"

            "Okay, okay it's worth a shot." Pistol felt like a bird was trapped in her ribcage, its wings beating frantically at her insides trying to get out. It pained her to realize that it was her heart making that entire racket. Standing up, she put her hands on her hips and spat onto the ground.

            "Well, I'm definitely going to need more alcohol in me than what I have now if I'm going to try this crazy stunt." Misery stood up as well, and laughing, the two girls went back to Medda's, one thinking she had helped her friend, and the other not knowing what she had gotten herself into at all.

            "Hey Blink have you seen Pistol?" Blink shook himself and tore his gaze away from Ruth to look up with annoyance at Emotions. The Brooklyn girl calmly met his glare and smiled blissfully at him. He felt a jab of worry pierce his stomach when he looked around and didn't see her anywhere.

            "Last I saw, she was with Race and Misery over at that table. Come to think of it, I don't see Misery either." Emotions breathed on the fingernails of her right hand and buffed them against her shirt, raising an eyebrow at him.

            "Maybe you should ditch the stranger and go find your friend before the little hooligan gets herself into trouble." Blink looked back at Ruth, dark, pretty, mysterious Ruth and with a pang of regret, excused himself to go find his wayward friend. When he was almost at the entrance to Medda's, he realized that he had forgotten his cap. Jogging back to get it, he was taken aback to see that Ruth had disappeared.

            Cocking his head in surprise, he looked around but couldn't find her everywhere. Pursing his lips, he put his cap on over his dirty-blonde hair and shrugged. His mind wandered towards Pistol and he shook his head, intent on finding her and giving her a piece of his mind about wandering off at night after she had been drinking.

            "And so then, when he wasn't looking, I took the tack and stuck it under his bum and …..Oh hi Blink." Pistol flushed furiously and Misery snorted back her laughter, trying to remain solemn at the sight of the grouchy looking Kid Blink. His cheeks were stained crimson and he raised a sardonic eyebrow at Pistol.

            "So that's where you've been? Sitting out here in the alley with Misery telling stories about how you've made fun of me in public?" Pistol lifted up a bottle of wine that they had swiped from Medda's kitchens and shook it at him.

            "Not only that, but we've been emptying this!" Blink let out a sigh but at the cheerful tone to her voice and sparkle in her eyes, he couldn't help but smile and sit down next to them, all three of their backs against the brick building next to Medda's. Grabbing the bottle away from her, he took a healthy swig. Pistol yelped and swatted at him in mock outrage.

            Misery took in her friend's still overly pink cheeks and slightly glassy eyes and the determined set to her narrow jaw. Grinning to herself, she rose and stretched, flipping a lock of her hair over her shoulder. Knocking a fist against the top of the bowler hat Pistol wore that used to be hers, she smiled openly this time.

            "I'm going inside, Race is probably wondering where the Hell I am and boy does he worry. Like a mother hen that boy is. I'll see you kids later." And with that she stuck her thumbs under her suspenders, hooking them around where her suspenders attached to her pants, elbows slightly cocked and swaggered down the alley back into Medda's. Pistol watched her go, her stomach leaping into her throat before she gagged it back down with a swallow of sweet wine.

            "So uh where's Ruth?" Despite all the booze he had consumed that night, Blink knew when Pistol was dallying around talking about something important. He had hoped that maybe they could settle what was between them once and for all in the near future but the girl skated around it like her feet were coated with butter.

            "Emotions came and told me to go find you because she hadn't seen you in awhile. Ruth disappeared; I don't know where she went. Y'know Pistol, you really need to stop running around the city as if you were still five. People could do bad things to a girl alone at night. I'm not your keeper."

            Pistol ground her teeth and turned sideways so that she was facing Blink who looked down at her, the moonlight illuminating the grim set to his mouth and angry eye. Sticking a finger in his face she waggled it, although words failed to come to her mouth. Suddenly her shoulders slumped and she looked away.

            "You're right, I need to grow up. Maybe if I grew up then people would like me more." Blink squinted, confused.

            "Like you more? People like you just fine. What do you mean like me more?"

            "Forget it! Forget I said anything, it doesn't mean nothin' just forget it." Blink was taken aback by how angry she suddenly got, her temper flaring like a struck match. She leapt up and was about to bound away, when he grabbed her sleeve, causing her to lose her balance and fall backwards onto him. Rolling over so that they were face to face, him still sitting up, her lying against him, she hiccupped, reeking of the wine.

            "What's the big idea Blink? Goddamn it you can be such an ass sometimes."

            "Oh yeah? Look who's talking ya queer little leprechaun of a girl." Pistol blinked at him and the corner of her mouth twitched as if she might laugh, but she didn't. Blink studied her for a heartbeat. The girl had grown up whether either of them wanted to admit it. Though she was small of stature she still had a feminine figure and face, and she was by far not ugly. Pistol's eyes snapped shut for a second and she huffed out a breath, and then opened them again.

            "Ya know you can get off me whenever ya want," Blink stated slowly. She shot her eyes towards his again; searching it seemed to see how serious he was. After a minute or two, she nodded in a determined manner then smiled leisurely up at him.

            "I could do that yah." Then she punched him solidly on the shoulder. Blink yowled in pain and grabbed her wrists throwing her off of him and up against the wall. She smacked her head and winced, trying not to look at the royally pissed off boy who restrained her.

            "I swear to God Pistol you drive me crazy," he growled out, their noses touching. When she gave him her challenging grin, he felt that weird little feeling in his stomach whenever she was around flame up. He was instantly overly aware of the girl he held half in his lap and half against the wall. Her usual smell of cigarettes and flowers from the soap Misery gave her to wash her face mixed with the wine. He leaned forward so that their foreheads rested against each other's and breathed deeply.

            Pistol's belly was a mess of nerves. She believed Misery, believed that maybe she DID need to try something like kissing Blink to see what would happen. She already knew that she liked him, she just didn't know if she was ready to admit it or not. That was a big step. What if they weren't right as a couple and lost their friendship? She couldn't live if that happened. Blink was as necessary to her as air or food; he was the only constant steady thing she had in her life. Throwing caution to the wind, she shifted until her lips touched his.

            She could feel his breath hitch and she knew, although there was no way she was going to look at him that he was watching her now, wondering what the hell she was doing. She pressed her mouth against his harder and just like that he dropped her hands and wound his arms around her, returning her kiss.

            When they broke apart, both were flushed and dazed. Pistol couldn't think straight, but there was one thing her mind and body were telling her to do. She needed to get out of there, and fast. Disentangling herself from him, she leapt up and stammered something about being tired and needing to sleep. Then she took off at a dead run, only pumping her legs faster when she heard him shout something out behind her.

            Tears pricked the corners of her eyes when later, as she lay in her bunk she saw through half-open eyelids the unmistakable male form of a boy pause in the doorway to the girl's room mutter something under his breath, and then continue on. Rolling over, she bunched up her blanket and hugged it to her, letting out a shaky breath.

            She knew that she had probably wounded him deeply by her reaction to something that she herself had been the one to instigate. But when her body and head told her 'Run!' she obeyed. No street kid would do otherwise. Besides, that kiss HAD made her realize something. She did have a thing for Blink and she had it bad. But she wasn't sure she had the guts still to do anything about it. The thought of facing him tomorrow morning was unbearable. But the idea of seeing him with Ruth after tonight was equally just as bad.

            There was no doubt about it; a visit to Misery was in order. Maybe she would know how to keep things running smoothly. After all she had given Pistol the idea of kissing him and what better girl to get advice from then the one who had managed to get the King of Brooklyn to fall head over heels for her, deny him and have him STILL be one of her best friends.

            Feeling a little bit better, but her stomach still racked with unease and guilt, she managed to fall into a fitful sleep that was plagued with nightmares and strange dreams.

**A/N – Ugh I feel like this chapter sucks. More so the ending than any other part, but I don't know. Let me know what you guys think and I can change it if need be. Or add stuff in to the next chapter.**

**Shout Outs!**

**My dog ate my penname – Hey there welcome back Spitball!**

**Spot: It's about damn time too…:::glare::: **

**Whoa. Easy there chief.  Soon, Spitball soon. ::cackles:: I don't think I can make this story TOO long although I do have more plot twistage coming up.  Skittery is your sort of side-kick but more than that. I need to develop that a bit more as well. **

**Pokey7 – Thanks I'm glad you still read this! Yeah I love bringing old characters into stories especially ones that I'm familiar with how to write them already. Hah Pistol is a tough nut to crack. **

**Nada Zimri – Thanks yeah I'm doing alright. It was sudden and all that, so no one was expecting it. I feel bad for Pistol, this chapter was actually sort of something that happened with me and one of my guy friends, so I hope it's believable.**

**Kays14 – Yeah I like the whole jealousy thing with Spot and Misery too, that's why I keep it in :D   Haha..there's still a little bit more to do with Ruth before Blink and Pistol can stop being idiots.**

**JamieBell – Yes, much easier. I hope that things start to pick up a little bit more with this story myself, I have some other things to add to it that's for sure.**

**Just Duck – Cameos rock and men are VERY VERY VERY frustrating. ::grinds teeth::**

**Jocelyn Padoga – I always get excited to see my characters in stories, so I know how you feel. You're welcome I'm glad you liked it!**

**Erin Go Bragh – As always, you have an awesome ffnet name. ::gets tackled::**

**Spot:: Hehe…now THAT'S what I'm talkin' about.**

**Perv****.**** Anywho, yes jealous Pistol is very fun, especially to write. :D**

**Emotions – Yay I'm so glad that I got your characters right! I'm sorry this took so long to update, I have tons of stories I'm working on so I try to rotate and update each one in a row. Next up is my Spot story. **


	9. Chapter Nine

"Get in here!" Misery yanked Pistol into her apartment, almost causing the girl to topple over. Pistol snorted at her friend's enthusiasm and straightened her shirt, this time a light blue. Misery pulled Pistol into her cramped living room by her hands and practically flung her onto the small sofa.

"So, how did last night go?" Misery lit a cigarette and exhaled, her eyes searching Pistol's face anxiously. Pistol took a deep breath, opened her mouth to speak, and then felt her face crumple and tears spill from her eyes. Misery stared in shock as her normally tough, short friend broke down.

"Oh Jesus, Pistol what happened?" Pistol took a deep breath and wiped her running nose on the back of her already dirty hand. She couldn't seem to get herself together and so she cried more, letting her eyes swell and her tears leak hot and salty down her cheeks. Finally, after Misery released her from her stout embrace, Pistol's ears echoing with Gaelic endearments, she sniffed and lit a cigarette.

"He...he kissed me. Well, I got him to kiss me. And Misery, I gotta tell ya it was like everything I guess I hoped it would be once we got to that point. But then I got scared and ran away and I haven't been able to face him since." Misery called her a silly, sweet girl in Gaelic and smoothed away the hair that was stuck to Pistol's tear-stained cheeks before answering.

"Were you scared because this is what you've wanted and you finally realized it?" With a miserable look, Pistol nodded and exhaled, dangling her small hands in between her knees, shoulders slumped. It hurt Misery to see her friend so shaken like this. The small girl's normally buoyant attitude and quick wit was dampened horrendously.

"Sweetie, this isn't the end of the world, ya know! Blink is goddamned crazy about you, I don't think you need to worry about him not feeling the same way." Pistol's cheeks flushed before she stubbornly jutted out her lower lip and frowned, face turning mutinous.

"Not when he's all over Hebrew's sister Ruth! And why shouldn't he like her, she wears dresses and is pretty and doesn't swear or spit or probably even smoke. Me'n'Blink, we've been like brother and sister for so long I think that he probably thinks it's weird I like him like I do." Grasping her head in her hands she gave an exasperated growl.

"Pistol, I think you need to talk to Blink about how he feels. Running out on him after you two kiss each other probably wasn't the wisest thing to do, although I understand why you did it completely." Pistol lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. She couldn't damn well figure out what she was so scared of. This was Blink she had feelings for, the same Blink she'd known practically her whole life. He wouldn't laugh at her or ignore her if she went and talked to him, he couldn't because she'd kick his shins off if he tried. Deep down she knew that he wouldn't though.

Squaring her shoulders, she looked at Misery, the petite, small girl rising and lifting Joshua out of his basket by the window and rocking him, twisting her body to and fro. A soft, lilting lullaby escaped her lips as she gently swayed him back to sleep, the baby having awoken due to mild colic.

"Thanks Misery," Pistol said quietly. Misery gave the other girl one of her rare smiles and Pistol sat back on the sofa, closing her eyes and listening to Misery sing. She must have fallen asleep, because when she awoke the sunlight that slanted in through the windows was a dusky gold and the sky outside was the deep golden-blue of early afternoon.

Cracking her eyelids open a tad further she blushed for the second time that day when she saw Race and Misery entangled in an embrace through the doorway that led into the small kitchen. Clamping her lids shut tight, she feigned slumber for another ten or fifteen minutes until she heard pots clanging around and Racetrack singing a boisterous song in Italian, Joshua's giggles echoing in the small apartment.

Standing up and stretching, she sauntered into the kitchen. After taking the day off from selling, she was going to definitely need to hit them up for dinner or else she'd go to bed hungry and wake up a very cranky Pistol in the morning. THAT was nothing anyone ever needed to experience if she could help it. Flopping down at their rickety table, she patted her tummy and gave Misery puppy-dog eyes as the girl sliced up bits of meat and tossed them into a pot that was bubbling on the stovetop.

Misery laughed, her face flushed from the heat in the kitchen, hazel eyes dancing with amusement. Racetrack placed Joshua into another basket that lay on the floor of the kitchen close enough to the stove for heat, but far away enough that they didn't have to worry about him climbing up and burning himself. Joshua wasn't even old enough to walk yet, he was just barely able to lift his head and flop over onto his stomach or back. It wouldn't be long before he was crawling.

There was a banging at the door then, and when Racetrack answered it, a disgruntled looking Spot was standing there, his cane slung over his shoulder; blue eyes narrowed and fixed on Pistol. Pistol was leaning back in her chair; face tired, eyes wide as Spot pointed his cane at her, and growled like a feral dog.

"The next time you take off into Brooklyn, BY YOURSELF, let someone know who can tell Blink that you'll be alright so he's not beating down my door and harassing my newsies for hours on end." A pissed off looking Blink shouldered his way into the apartment after Spot, arms crossed over his broad chest, one blue eye glowering at Pistol. Pistol thumped her chair down onto the kitchen floor, a guilty look flitting onto her face.

Misery shooed Spot into the kitchen and set a plate of a thin soup in front of him, then Pistol, then Race, and finally Blink. Pistol felt guilty all over again when she heard Misery's ladle scrape bottom as the girl emptied the pot into her own dish. Pushing her bowl aside, she waved it away nonchalantly nudging the rim of Misery's dish with her own.

"Here, I'm not hungry." Misery shot her a glare and shoved the plate back, thrusting a spoon into Pistol's face.

"Eat."

"I said I was fine..."

"EAT IT." The only noise in the apartment for approximately ten minutes was the clinking of spoons against already chipped porcelain and slurping. When they all finished, the sound of matches rasping against paper was heard as all of them lit cigarettes, Misery rising to open a window. Racetrack coughed, the sound rattling throughout the kitchen, and Misery watched him with a worried frown.

Pistol darted nervous looks in Blink's direction, only to find him watching her, his face unreadable. Blushing furiously, she finally stopped looking at him as Spot began to ask Racetrack how business at Sheepshead was going. The two chatted, finally easy with each other after the tension of the triangle between Race, Spot and Misery. Pistol looked over to see Misery giving her a sympathetic look, and almost jumped out of her skin when Blink put his hand over hers and stood up.

"Well I should be getting her back, it's getting late and Jack don't like stragglers coming in keeping the youngest kids awake at night." Indeed, the light was growing dim in the kitchen and Misery lit a gas lamp, before hugging Pistol good-bye. Spot apparently was going to stay and talk longer, and Pistol and Blink left the three of them in the kitchen talking.

Neither of them said a word as they walked through the streets of Brooklyn, keeping close to the sidewalk, not straying into the shadows. They were lucky to be street kids and look it, but unlucky to be so young and not in their own territory. Any of Spot's kids wouldn't harm them, but there were plenty of others who might.

"Emotions said her and Wolf were gonna stop by to see ya tomorrow after they were done sellin'. I told them I'd let you know." Pistol nodded absently and lit a cigarette, drawing deep on it, the end glowing like a rose in the darkness. Blink's voice sounded scratchy and she looked over at him, as he took his cap off and ran a hand through his hair. Smiling evilly she made snipping motions with her hand at him.

"Time for another haircut soon, I think." Blink laughed outright, and darted away from her slightly.

"Never again, little girl." They reached the Manhattan Lodging House, not talking again, although not as uncomfortable with each other. Pistol was taken aback to see Ruth, Hebrew's sister sitting outside on the front stoop, her cheeks stained with tears. Blink immediately began asking her what was wrong, and Pistol stomped inside, only to be cornered by Jack.

"Ruth is stayin' here for a week or two, Pistol." Pistol's mouth dropped open, and she gave Jack a look so shocked that he thought she might drop due to heart failure. Opening and closing her mouth a few times, she failed to speak, and shoulders slumping, just turned around silently and started walking up the stairs. Mush, who was coming downstairs, made as if to stop her, and she just elbowed him aside and ran the rest of the way.

Flinging herself onto her bunk, she blinked back the hot tears that threatened to spill, cursing under her breath. The younger girls in the room vacated the premises, and the older ones ignored her. She hated it here sometimes; none of her close girl friends lived in Manhattan anymore. She wished for Misery, or Bourbon, or Emotions.

Angrily, she flung her switchblade into the wall next to her bed, again and again, aiming for a target she had drawn onto the flimsy wood with chalk. Hearing the bed on the other side of her creak, she rolled over only to come face to face with Ruth herself. The willowy girl with the nice figure's eyes were swollen yet cold as she looked Pistol over and apparently finding her lacking, lay on her side so that her back was facing the other girl.

Fuming, Pistol was about to call her on it, when Jack appeared in the doorway, his eyes warning her to behave, yet holding a tinge of pity in them. Giving him the finger with a vicious sneer spread on her thin face, she shot to her feet and made her way to the fire escape. Screw all of 'em, she'd spend the night on the roof if she had to.

Anything would be better than sleeping next to that hoity toity bitch down there. Wrapping her arms around herself, she gazed up at the sky, looking for the patterns that the stars made, remembering when she had learned about them from one of her governess's who had taken a liking to the odd child so long ago. She couldn't understand why her life seemed to suddenly be spiraling out of control. What had she done to make this happen and so fast? Misery would say that it was because she was getting older, and when one got older one faced new challenges every time they got out of bed in the morning.

Well if that was the case, then Pistol would stay IN bed, just to avoid it. Snorting softly she couldn't help but laugh. She'd be tossed out onto her behind so fast her head would spin if she did that. Sighing heavily, she prepared herself for a long night in the cool New York City air. There was not a chance in Hell she was going back inside. Leaning up against the low wall, she began to count stars, eyes squinted slightly. Something was better than nothing if it distracted her. Even if it wasn't much of anything at all.

Shout Outs!!

Smiley Cad -- :::looks at the chapter::: Uhm...there was no more kissing...::looks again:: and nothing got fixed....::tiptoes off to hide:: ;D

Pokey – Yes they did! Now let's see if they do it again...

Blink: Well we damned well better!

NadaZimri -- ::Begins a complicated tap-dance number:: Updaaaate your story....updaaaaate your story....ha-cha cha cha... I'm glad the last chapter didn't suck, this one does, so bad! Hehee...

Kays14 – More evil Ruth!! She is SO not gone, she has a purpose...::laughs manically::

Pistol:: Make a note...no sugar for Misery before bedtime...

Erin Go Bragh – They definitely should get together. If only I was a NICE person and would just let them do that...

My Dog Ate My Penname -- ::dances around with Spitball hanging onto her ankle::

They'll kiss again I promise...::looks around...see's Spot::: Shake your tushie for her!!

Spot: ::shakes tush::

Ahh..destraction...Anywho... ;D I love Pistol too, she's awesome. Don't worry things will look up for her and Blink, eventually.

Jaws – I hate it too, trust me. That's sort of how I'm basing this fic on is my feelings towards two boys who made me feel the way Blink makes Pistol feel. Girly stuff is crap...::stubborn pout::

JamieBell – Thank you, I thought the ending was lame myself. Maybe I'll fix it, or leave it to remind me. Hah yes Pistol is the master of confusion and double standards.. Poor chick. Oh well, hope you liked this chapter!


	10. Chapter Ten

A/N – I know this is short, sorry guys. Also, I'm sorry for the delay, there will be another chapter shortly I just have to go over the plot for this story again, I feel like I'm losing it completely. Let me know what you think if anyone's still reading this. And yes, there IS a plotline to this story by the way!

Pistol awoke to someone shaking her by the shoulder roughly. Blinking groggily and shivering, she peered up through her sleep filled eyes to see an irritated Jack standing over her. Yanking her to her feet, he propelled her down the stairs and into the girl's lodging rooms which were empty, beds made and floors swept. Jack might have been a lazy street kid, but he took the running of the lodging house seriously and expected his newsies to do their chores with the efficiency of soldiers.

Wrapping her up in a blanket, he thrust a mug of bitter coffee into her hands and instructed her to drink. Pistol found that she was half-frozen; apparently sleeping on the roof in the early part of November wasn't a good idea. She also had a nasty crick in her neck from sleeping propped up against a wall. Jack flipped a chair around and sat on it the wrong way, resting his forearms across the back. Staring at her, Pistol dropped her eyes under his intense brown-eyed glower feeling the same painful dullness grow inside her.

"What Jack?" she finally whispered. Jack sighed and flipped a long strand of his brown hair that was always falling into his eyes back onto his forehead. The lodging house was oddly still and she realized that she must have missed the first edition of the paper, not having been awoken by the usual mad dashes to the wash room and the D.C.

"Pistol…it's getting hard watching you and Blink around each other. Can't you guys just…I don't know, work things out?" Pistol snorted mirthlessly and gripped the mug of coffee tightly, letting its warmth seep into her hands. Lifting one of her shoulders in a half-shrug, she sat with Jack, not speaking for another minute or two.

"He was pretty worried about ya this morning when he didn't see you walking to the D.C. with everyone. I kind of figured you'd be up on the roof; it's one of the places I used to go. I told him I'd find you and not to worry."

"Yeah then I bet Ruth stepped in and comforted him, huh?" Jack winced at her bitter tone and didn't answer, which was confirmation enough for Pistol. Letting her chin drop onto her chest, she felt tears begin to sting the corners of her eyes and a sob stick painfully in her chest. Jack noticed the white-knuckle grip on the mug and gently took it away from her.

"God Pistol cut the shit." Pistol's head snapped up and a fire that hadn't been seen in her eyes for two weeks flared suddenly giving Jack hope. Clearing his throat, he leaned forward and gripped her shoulder firmly; looking her dead on, making sure she was paying attention to his words.

"If you feel half of what I think you do for Kid Blink you'll get up off your ass and not let that skirt worm her way into the picture. I couldn't turn her away last night, Pistol not with our relations with Hebrew so shaky. Nor could I let her go to Brooklyn where the kids would rip her to shreds. Hebrew will come for her soon, she won't be here long. Now go and find Kid and fight for him, because if you don't you're gonna lose him. He's a simple, honest guy and if you screw with his feelings too much he won't make the effort, you know that."

"If he won't make the effort then why should I?"

"Because you know you have to. I don't know exactly what happened between you guys a few days ago, but it really messed him up bad, he's been as sullen as Skittery lately. Who else is he going to turn to if he can't go to you?" Pistol played with the frayed end of the blanket and tucked a stray lock of her red hair behind one of her ears. Jack watched her internal struggle silently play across her face.

"You like him?"

"Yeah"

"You love him?"

"I think so."

"Good, he's selling at Grand Central, go get him."

Blink watched Ruth as she sat beside him on a bench at the train station, and fluttered her eyelids at him and smiled. He noticed with some interest that although it seemed she was dedicated to seducing him, a corner of her gaze always remained watching the crowd as they walked by. Shrugging inwardly, he let the girl pull him into an embrace. He wished that it was Pistol sitting with him instead of Ruth, but she had rejected him quite firmly. Doing everything except screaming as she ran away seemed like a pretty strong rejection to him. So he had decided to do what any boy his age would do, lose his hurt by paying attention to another girl.

He liked being with Ruth, he couldn't deny that. She was very pretty, and polite, and above all feminine. He wasn't one of the boys who liked overly girly girls in comparison to the newsgirl's often tomboyish behavior. In fact, he rather preferred it. But there was something about a girl who wore perfume and even rouge along with a nice dress and a ribbon in her hair that made him look twice. _'I could get used to this'_ he decided as the subtle scent of her engulfed him. It was then that he noticed Pistol, skipping no hopping down the steps into the train station. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of her.

She always hopped down stairs; he had never been able to figure out why. It was a sort of hop-skip-jump combination that never failed to amuse him. Forgetting that he was angry with her for one brief moment, he watched her as she leapt up onto the back of a bench a few feet away and scan the crowd, one hand over her brow, the other dramatically resting on a cocked hip.

Spying them, he saw her stiffen and then slowly climb down from her perch. It wasn't long before he saw the bowler hat that Misery had given her with it's crimson ribbon bobbing towards them. Ruth pulled away at Pistol's approach, not quick enough to hide the disgust that the other girl's appearance apparently made her feel.

"Hey Blink!" Pistol crowed cheerfully, pointedly ignoring Ruth, which seemed to infuriate the other girl. Blink smiled at her in greeting before suddenly remembering that he was angry with her. Crossing his arms over his chest which involved removing one from it's resting position around Ruth's shoulders, he glared at Pistol. Pistol's overly-cheerful grin faltered and she put her hands on her hips raising a copper eyebrow in response.

"What?"

"Where the hell were you last night?"

"Up on the roof"

"Why the hell were you on the roof?"

"Because I felt like it, why do you care?"

"You know I care"

"Hmph," Pistol's muffled grimace of acknowledgement made her thin face look tired and drawn. Blink suddenly stood up, tired of this constant emotional battle with Pistol. He loved her as a friend, as a little sister, and lately, he was damn sure as something else. But she would never let them see if they could be anything like that. He knew she was terrified of letting their relationship go any further and to tell you the truth, so was he. Maybe it was better this way.

Dragging Ruth to her feet, he gave Pistol a cold look and walked away. Ruth wound an arm around his waist and together they left Grand Central. Blink felt a dead weight settle in his stomach and he frowned for the rest of the day. This was only the beginning of bad times between him and Pistol, of that he was certain.

Pistol's mouth hung open as she watched the pair walk away, Ruth hanging all over Blink like the hussy she was. Feeling tears prick hotly at the corner's of her eyes, she blinked them away and stood up, determination painted all over her face. Kicking the bench in frustration, she yelped as the pain hit her toes. Tossing her red hair up underneath her hat, she took off in the opposite direction, running until she felt her chest was going to burst and she panted like a dog on a hot summer day.

Two pairs of shoes entered her field of vision as she bent over, one hand supporting her as she leaned against a wall. Looking up, she saw an amused Emotions and Wolf standing in front of her. Greeting them, the trio walked over to a spot in a nearby park, sitting down to talk. Pistol told them about her meeting with Ruth and Blink in the Station, and Emotions growled.

"They're letting her stay there? What are they crazy?"

"No, just boys"

"Hey I resemble that remark," Wolf's tone of voice was joking as was his face, and Emotions smiled at him and pinched his arm. He swatted at her and Pistol laughed for the first time in a few days as she watched them go through their slapstick routine, which ended with Wolf putting Emotions in a headlock and tickling her till she screamed 'Uncle'.

"Seriously though, what's his deal? He's been up your butt for years and now this Ruth girl comes along and it's 'See ya Pistol, thanks for the memories'. Well I don't like it one bit, this is fishy."

Pistol giggled at the stormy expression on Emotions' face. Deep down, she knew exactly why Blink was hanging around Ruth and she was almost positive that it wasn't totally because of Ruth's pretty face. Shrugging slightly, she perked her head to one side as she saw Ruth walking down the sidewalk in their direction, except on the other side of the street. The two Brooklyn newsies noticed and Emotions looked at her expectantly, while Wolf smiled a lazy grin that spread across his lean face like melting butter.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Obviously, I mean how DOES Spot get women? He's so anal if you stuck a lump of charcoal up his arse it would turn into a diamond." Pistol and Emotions stopped and looked at Wolf with matching startled expressions on their faces. He winked and stood up, grabbing them both by their suspenders and hauling them up into the air while both girls yelped and twisted, trying to kick him.

"You are SO weird," Emotions said in between hysterical laughter. Wolf kissed her demurely on the cheek and set them down, striding off after Ruth without looking back to see if they would follow. Pistol trotted after them, trying to keep pace with their longer strides, walking double time. She wanted to see what Ruth did on her own, maybe then she could find out why the girl had taken such an intense liking to a boy she knew NOTHING about.

**Shout Outs**

**Allie – **Thank you, sorry it took me so long to add to this story. Also, I know this is short, but never fear I'll update again. Thanks for reviewing!

**Kays14 – **Ahh, well what do you think about Ruth? You're about to find out in the next chapter or two what her deal is, I'm not sure how much longer I'll put it off. I don't think I CAN put it off much longer, haha…

**Smiley Cad – **Of course I appreciate your review, I'm sorry it was such a pain in the butt to do! Okay so more kissing and killing Ruth. I'll see what I can do ::nods::

Pistol: I like her…::points at Smiley::

**My Dog Ate My Penname -- ::**laughs at Spot and waves a hankie after him::

Spot: You're just going to let her take me? Just like that?!

You know it spanky! Don't stay out too late and eat all your veggies. Anywho, yeah Ruth is definitely meant to be an adversary in this story but of course, good triumphs over evil. Eventually. Yay for Broadway singing!!

**Emotions – **Yes my dear, things will work out very soon. I give this story maybe like three more chapters tops. It's not going exactly how I wanted it to but I'm going to dissect it and make it work. There will be more Blink/Pistol though don't you worry!

**A/N –**

** Does anyone know where that movie quote came from? It's not mine, see if you can guess. I'll credit it in the next chapter.**


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